Uhuru
by anonymous1912
Summary: Uhuru means freedom in Swahili. It's the one thing she craves the most and when Fitz offers to give it to her, there's no way she can resist. But there's just one problem, she's a slave and he's the slave master's son. Follow these two on a journey of fear, of love, and of heartache as they try to find what everyone was born with but some are denied: freedom.
1. mwanzo

**Disclaimer: I don't own Scandal. **

**AN: Before I formally begin my author's note, I just want to warn everyone that this story is not for the faint of heart. Racial slurs will be used, there will be violence, and some things may be hard to digest. So if you're the type that doesn't like to read things like that, I wouldn't go any further. Anyways, for those of you who still want to read my story, I say thank you. For those who are familiar with my work, welcome back. Let the journey begin...**

* * *

Prologue

_1845 Richmond, Virginia_

"Snap the peas just like I showed you, Olivia," her mother, Greta, told her again, teaching her seven year old daughter the correct way.

Greta was a very beautiful woman and her light skin spoke of her mulatto heritage. She had high cheekbones and full lips that she passed down to her daughter. Her hair was more curly than kinky and she had the prettiest singing voice that Olivia had ever heard. Many of the men, including some of the overseers, had taken a liking to Greta, but she had chosen Eli, a strong man that was an excellent father, worker, and husband.

"Yes, mama," Olivia responded, snapping the green vegetable perfectly.

"Good, now just pick up the pace. You have to be the fastest so that Mrs. Grant will pick you to work in the house," her mother told her.

That had been all Olivia had been hearing lately. She had to be the best at snapping peas, setting the table, washing the floors, and she was even learning how to sew so that she could work in the big house permanently and not in the fields with the others. Her mother always told her that since she was pretty and was lighter than some of the others that would already give her a leg up, but in order to a be in the house and never have to feel the end of a whip, she had to be the best. And so she was because she had seen firsthand what happened someone didn't do their task right.

As they sat at the workers table in the back of the kitchen, they quickly completed their task, knowing that there was still plenty to do before sundown and they were to head back to their quarters. That was Olivia's favorite part of the day. While their cabin was small and there was upwards of fifteen of them that had to share, it was the one time of day she didn't have to work. She got to see her father, often tired from a hard day's work in the field chopping tobacco, but he always made time to tell her stories of freedom. He would tell her tales of a place called Canada in the north where slaves didn't have to work for the white man and how one day, they'd go there. He gave her hope.

They were prepping dinner when young master Fitzgerald came running into the kitchen. He was just a year older than Olivia and she thought he was cutest boy she'd ever seen. His eyes captivated her and the fact that he was kind to her made her infatuation grow. When she was younger, they would play together but then came the time for Olivia to start working and the line between coloreds and whites was drawn. His father had a reputation of being the harshest slave master in Virginia, something that he was extremely proud of. He showed no mercy and the nooses that hung from the trees were testament to that.

"Greta, I'm hungry," Fitzgerald announced.

"Well dinner is in the oven so you'll just have to wait or you'll spoil your supper," Greta told him, a slight smile edging at the corner of her mouth.

She had practically raised Fitzgerald herself, being designated his mammy from the time he was born. Mrs. Grant didn't take to motherhood so she pawned her responsibilities off onto Greta. Many women of privilege did that and many of those men that the slaves raised turned right around and became the harshest overseers and plantation owners. Just look at Master Grant. He was raised by Olivia's grandmother and when she was no longer of any use to him, he sold her dirt cheap to someone that was even worse than he. Greta just prayed that Fitzgerald didn't turn out the same way.

"Okay," he grumbled, a forlorn look on his face.

Just before he could leave the kitchen, Greta slipped him a freshly made biscuit with a piece of ham. He smiled gratefully then ran off to do whatever it was he was doing before. Olivia watched the entire exchange, somewhat jealous of the relationship her mother had with Fitzgerald. Whenever she had complained of hunger pains in the middle of the night, her mother told her to get used to that feeling because it would never go away. She didn't yet fully understand the extent of slavery, she just knew that for some reason, she had to work and white people didn't. But she was going to learn real soon.

* * *

"Fitzgerald, come out here!" The sound of Master's voice made Olivia jump, terror racing up her spine. She had heard that tone of voice before and knew that something bad was about to happen. "The rest of you niggers, get out here now!"

Master was a big man with the same color eyes as his son, but Big Gerry's eyes didn't hold the same light. No, he was cruel and rigid man that never smiled and was known to punish his slaves at the slightest of indiscretions. He once whipped a man because he referred to him as 'sir' and not 'master', and as he did so, made the other slaves watch and take not of this lesson in respect.

Olivia quickly dropped the sponge she was using to scrub the floors and raced out into the front yard with her mother. She saw the others coming in from the fields and the other women pouring out of the house to see what Master was calling them for. As she got closer, she saw. It was her father, his arms tied behind his back and his feet bound together so that he couldn't move. His face was bloody and his body was stripped naked and heavily whipped. Two of the overseers were dragging him to the hanging tree while the other one prepared the noose. Her mother saw at the same exact time and she let out a harrowing cry for her husband. She rushed forward in attempts to get to him but the other slaves held her back, knowing that if she went any further, she'd be dead within five minutes. One of them whispered in her ear and Greta turned to see Olivia standing by herself. She went to her daughter and began praying, knowing there was nothing else she could do.

"It seems we have a brave nigger on our hands," Master Grant bellowed. "This nigger here thinks he can stage a revolt, thinks he can get together a group of _my _property and flee. Well, you thought wrong. Anything to say for yourself?" Master Grant asked, kicking up Eli's chin with the tip of his boot.

Eli set his jaw and looked straight ahead, his pride emanating from his body. Olivia watched in horror as Master kicked her father again, this time with more force and blood and spit flew from his mouth. "I asked you a question, boy, and I want an answer." Then crouching low, he asked again, "did you think you could run away with my slaves and not think I would find out about it?"

Eli remained silent, spitting out a tooth and continuing to stare straight ahead.

"Hang him," was all Master Grant said, spitting on Eli before standing back up. "Let this be a warning to anyone who thinks they can run away and there not be any consequences."

They slipped the noose around her father's head then proceed to hoist him up onto the barrel that was right below the tree. Eli began to recite the Lord's Prayer, "Our Father, which art in heaven, hallowed by thy Name…." Her mother was screaming and tears were running down Olivia's face. When he finished his prayer, he turned to his family and told them how sorry he was and that he loved them. Then he held his head up high and went silent to wait for his fate.

"See Fitzgerald, this is what you're going to have to do when niggers disobey," Master Grant spoke to his son, getting closer and closer to the barrel that was preserving Eli's life. "You give them a home, you give them food, you let them work for you and this is how they repay you. Well, I have no tolerance for the animals that think they can just walk away."

Just before he kicked the barrel over, Greta grabbed her daughter and shielded her away. Then Olivia heard the sound that she'd never forget. She heard the barrel fall, the noose tighten, and her father's neck snap. Her mother's cries were drowned out as Olivia retreated into herself, trying to transport herself to Canada, to anywhere but here.

"Anyone who was thinking of doing the same, I have plenty of rope," Master Grant warned.

Olivia heard someone retching up the contents of their stomach and peering around her mother's back, she saw it was Fitzgerald, hunched over and physically ill for what he just witnessed. Master Grant walked over to his son, laughing, and told him to stop being such a pansy. Then he slapped him hard across the face and told him to get in the house. Master Grant followed behind his son and everyone let out a sigh of relief that no one else was going to die today.

"Don't just stand around, get him down then get back to work," The head overseer, Cyrus, yelled then took out his whip so that everyone knew not to drag their feet.

* * *

**AN: I usually try to stay away from hard topics, but this one has been on my mind for a little bit. I'm a huge slavery, civil war, and civil rights enthusiast. There's something about those eras (really it's just one era that was continuous) that intrigues me. I've been looking for a good historical romance that features a black woman and a white man that fall in love under less than great circumstances and while I found a few set in the 40's and 50's, I personally haven't been able to find one set in slavery times. (If anyone has read such a book, let me know in a review). So I did what any practical person does, write it myself. This is just a prologue, a testing of the waters to see how it will be received so let me know in a review what you thought.**

**P.S: For those who read my other stories and are thinking, "how are you gonna start another story and you haven't even finished the one you have?", you're right. But I just needed to get this out, and I promise I'll finish the other two soon and will try my hardest not to let this fall by the wayside. **

**P. P. S: What the hell Shonda? How much more are you going to put on Fitz? I mean really? The next thing she's gonna say is that he's single handedly responsible for recession, knew Osama Bin Laden on a first name basis, and is causing global warming. Having him kill her mother was just overkill, and it looks like next week she's gonna have him screw Mellie. I mean, damn, give the dude a break. **


	2. shiba

**Disclaimer: I don't own Scandal**

**AN: I want to thank everyone who has decided to come along on this ride with me. It won't be easy and I will do my best to make sure that slavery is not be romanticized It's a hard topic and will be dealt with as such. Anyways, here's the next chapter: Enjoy :)**

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_1856_

"Olivia!" Mrs. Grant called out from the parlor.

Sighing, Olivia wiped the dishwater off her hands on the front of her smock and headed out of the kitchen to go see what Mrs. Grant wanted. She had been working in the house full time ever since she was thirteen and had quickly become Mrs. Grant's favorite. The other girls were jealous of Olivia, often stealing her food and sometimes even hitting her. When Mrs. Grant's mammy from childhood died, in order to fill the void, she moved Olivia into the house and Olivia now stayed in a small room right off the back of the house that used to be the extra pantry.

But living in the big house was no easy feat. While it was definitely better than working in the fields and living in the cramped slave quarters, she was reminded every day that she was barely better than the dirt on Master's shoes. She waited on Mrs. Grant hand and foot, her work extending late into the night and she never received so much as a thank you. Every morning, she woke up before the sun to make sure that all of her morning chores were done before going to wake up Master and Mrs. Grant. She was also responsible for waking Fitzgerald, a task that she didn't really mind doing. With the morning light shining on him, he looked almost heavenly and he would always smile at her and thank her for waking him. He was the only one to ever say thank you and she blushed every time he did. Those few moments in the morning is what got her through the rest of her day.

But when night fell, after doing a hard day's work and being physically exhausted, she couldn't even let herself fully sleep because lately she had been hearing footsteps outside her door. She had heard stories of Master creeping into the quarters late at night and picking out women and when those same women would birth fair skinned babies with gray eyes, everyone knew what had happened. Those women would be ostracized for having 'let' a white man touch her even though they all knew that had happened. Olivia was terrified that she was next.

Olivia pasted a fake smile on her face before reaching the parlor, carrying a tray of ice tea and cookies, already having a feeling that this is what she was asking for. When she entered the room, she saw the Dutchmores, a family that owned the next plantation over. They had a beautiful daughter, Mellie, and it seemed they were trying to arrange a marriage between her and Fitzgerald. For some reason, this caused a twinge of jealousy to spurt in Olivia's belly.

"Ah, Olivia, dear, you must have read my mind," Mrs. Grant smiled. "This one here, she's an excellent worker, never complains and completes her job quickly and efficiently. You can't find many niggers like her," Mrs. Grant bragged to the Dutchmores.

"So true, so true. With the muck these damn Quakers are stirring up, some of these coons think they're equal to us. A comedic statement if I've ever heard one," Mr. Dutchmore laughed and the others followed suit.

"Not our slaves. Big Gerry rules with an iron fist and they know not to try anything. Isn't that right, Olivia?" Mrs. Grant asked.

"Yes ma'am," Olivia responded immediately, reminded of the penalty her own father paid for such thoughts.

"Anyways, Olivia, I was also calling you so that you could go and fetch Fitzgerald from his room. You did do his ironing this morning, correct?" At Olivia's head nod, she continued, "Good. Make sure that he's dressed properly and inform him that Mellie is here to see him."

"Yes ma'am."

Olivia quickly left the left the parlor and went up the stairs to do what was asked of her. Outside of Fitzgerald's door, she smoothed down her hair, a motion she realized was ridiculous because he'd never look at her as anything other than what she was; a slave. She knocked swiftly and waited for permission to come in. When it was granted, she entered.

"Olivia," he greeted her getting up from his desk and fully acknowledging her presence.

"Master Fitzgerald," she bowed her head briefly then told him, "Mrs. Grant wanted me to inform you that Ms. Mellie is here and that you are to entertain her for the evening."

Fitz groaned in distaste. It was no secret that he wasn't interested in Mellie, but with their fathers owning two of the biggest plantations is the south, their union would create an untouchable empire. He'd met her twice before and each time, she'd left a bitter taste in his mouth. She was cold and rigid and he had no doubt that she'd make his life hell if they were to marry.

"Do you need any help dressing?" Olivia asked him, quietly hoping that he'd say yes.

"No, but if you could tie my tie, I'd be much obliged. I can never quite get it right," he told her with a crooked smile.

"Yessir."

"Olivia, when it's just the two of us, you can call me Fitz. I'm only a year older than you and it sounds weird hearing you call me sir," he told her laughingly as he proceeded to get undressed.

Olivia turned, shying away from seeing him in any form of undress. "It isn't my place, sir," she responded meekly, her heart still pounding at the thought that he possibly found her his equal.

"You can turn around now, Olivia," he informed her as he buttoned the last button on his black vest and tucked his gold pocket watch into his pocket.

When she turned, he was closer than she expected she nearly slammed into him. Before she could, he grabbed her arm and steadied her, making sure she didn't fall and in the process pulled her closer. Being this close to him made her skin prickle. Still, she kept her eyes down, being told to never directly look a white man in the eye. But for just a split second, she let go of her inhibitions and she let her eyes up to a point in the middle of his chest, terrified to go any further. Then she felt his finger tip her chin up and when their eyes met and the air was sucked out of the room. She could feel her heart against her ribcage and her body heated when she realized he still hadn't released her. Seeming to have realized this at the same time she did, he let her arm go and took a step back.

"Um, your tie?" Olivia stumbled, still trying to regain her equilibrium.

"Right," he said, remembering that he had asked her to tie it for him. He was just as flustered as she. He turned to his closet and came back a second later, holding two up. "Which one? The black or the blue?"

"Whichever you want sir," Olivia answered, having never been asked her opinion on anything.

"Olivia, I would really like to know which one you think is best," he told her softly, encouraging her to find her voice.

"I think…I think that whichever you chose is best, sir," she answered again, lowering her gaze to the floor once more.

Her mother had warned her against white men. She told her that they're nice at first, making you think that you're special or that you matter. She told her awful stories about them raping black women but stories that struck her most horrific were the ones of love. Of how the men would whisper sweet nothings into the ears of the slave women and get them to trust them only to turn their back when they got pregnant. Greta made sure to drill into Olivia's head to never let a white man touch her and to never, ever trust them.

"Okay," he said, looking a bit disappointed.

He ended up choosing the black one and then handed it to Olivia while he flipped his collar up. She took the tie and tied it around her own neck, making a perfect knot before loosening it up and handing it to him. They both knew that he wanted her tie it around his neck for him and they both knew why she couldn't. It'd be too intimate, too close, and they needed to keep the line between them bold.

She handed him the tie, informed him that they were in the parlor, then left to continue her work.

* * *

Fitz wasn't sure what was happening to him. Lately all of his thoughts were consumed with Olivia. When they were younger they would play together. They would play childish games like tag and hide and seek or would listen together as Greta told them old folklores. Then one day it all changed. They were playing outside when his father came and snatched him by the arm and dragged him inside. He told him that if he wanted to play with an animal so bad that they'd buy him a dog , but from this day forward he was never to associate with Olivia or any other slave on a personal level again. He was six.

From then on, his contact with Olivia was scarce. She started working alongside Greta in the house and Fitz was occupied with his daily lessons. As time went on, he was able to put Olivia and his once friendship with her to the back of his mind, only saving those fond memories for when he was alone and free to let his mind wander.

But when he turned fourteen, thoughts of her came back with a vengeance. Blame it on the hormones, but she was everywhere, in his thoughts, in his dreams, lurking around the corners in the house. He made any excuse to see her, making sure that each time he did that he was as kind as possible. Her morning wakeup calls was the highlight of his day. As the years went on, she started to fill out more. Her breast grew and her hips widened giving her a shape made for sin. She was gorgeous. There was something about her caramel skin, the texture of her hair, and her full lips that called to him.

But what really got to him were her eyes. They were big and brown and hidden behind the sadness was always a flickering light of hope that life somewhere else had to be better than this. That there was a place where everyone was equal and wasn't judged by the color of their skin. He wanted to take her to that place, wanted to live in that place with her. He wanted that flickering light to become as bright as the sun and he wanted to see her do something that she hadn't done since the day her dad died; smile.

He vowed right then to give her the life she dreamed of. But for now, he was wanted in the parlor.

* * *

That night during dinner, as she stood on the sidelines and waited for the one of the patrons to need something, Olivia could feel Fitz's eyes boring into her. Only once did she get the courage to return his gaze and when they connected, she dropped the pitcher of water from her hands. Her fingers had went nerveless and even as she heard the crash of the glass breaking, she couldn't look away. And neither did he. His gray eyes burned into her soul and she had a hard time breathing. She didn't know what was happening to her. All she knew was that something drastic had just occurred and she didn't want to name it even though she knew exactly what it was.

"OLIVIA!" She could hear Mrs. Grant yelling her name and she knew that this wasn't the first time she had said it.

Mrs. Grant didn't like to repeat herself. Ever.

Olivia was in trouble.

"I'm…I'm so sorry, ma'am. It slipped. I'll clean it up straight away," Olivia rushed to cover her actions and hurriedly left the room to get the mop and a broom.

When she came back with the cleaning utensils, she bent down to begin cleaning up the glass and water when she saw a shadow come over her. Her body began to shake as she realized it was Big Gerry and she prayed that the punishment wasn't going to be too severe. As she reached down to pick up one of the shards of glass, a boot covered foot smashed her hand down on to the hardwood, slicing her finger open and causing a sharp pain to shoot up the length of her arm.

"How much would you say this crystal pitcher cost?" Big Gerry asked Olivia.

"Dad, maybe you should…"Fitz started to speak up, hating to see Olivia in pain.

"Shut your mouth, Fitzgerald," Big Gerry cut him off before he could utter another word.

"I..I'm not sure, Master," Olivia gritted out through clenched teeth, the pain increasing as he pressed down harder on her foot.

"Of course you wouldn't know. You're just a stupid nigger. Well I'm going to tell you how much it cost. It costs twenty dollars. You owe me twenty dollars which in my estimations is exactly three days worth of food," he sneered, then finally let up off her hand. "Now clean this mess up and get out of my sight."

"Yes Master," Olivia responded quietly and cleaned up the rest of the shards and left the dining room clutching her injured hand.

"Didn't you think that was a little excessive," Fitz asked hotly when Olivia was gone.

Setting down his fork, Big Gerry turned to his son with a hard expression. "Not only did she break my pitcher, she disrespected your mother by having her repeat herself and she embarrassed me in front of our guests. I can't have our friends here thinking I'm running a plantation where niggers can do wrong and get away with it. Now if you have a problem with the way I have handled things, you can join your little friend in her punishment and can go sleep with those monkeys since you love them so much."

"Now Gerry, we can't have our son mixed in with those…those…things," Mrs. Grant shuddered in disgust at the mere thought of her son being forced to sleep in the slave quarters.

"He has got to learn, Ginny, that he cannot disrespect me. He has to know the difference between people and property. The sooner, the better," Big Gerry told her.

"That is right," Mr. Dutchmore agreed. "Mellie used to have a little jigaboo she would run around with. She cried for days when I sold her. But she had to learn that those animals aren't friends. They are here to work and serve us, nothing else. Isn't that right sweetheart?" Mr. Dutchmore asked his daughter.

"Yes, Daddy," Mellie responded sweetly. And the sad thing is was that she truly believed it.

That made Fitz sick to his stomach. How was he supposed to marry a woman that couldn't see that all life had value. Looking at her made him want to throw up and knowing that he shared a bloodline and a name with such a cruel man made Fitz's skin crawl.

* * *

Later that night in the kitchen Olivia and her mother were cleaning up from dinner. The Dutchmores had finally left with promises of returning soon. From the kitchen she could hear Mellie tell Fitzgerald how she was looking forward to seeing him again and he responded in kind. Hearing that made Olivia jealous but she would never admit it out loud.

"I see the way that boy looks at you," Greta finally spoke. She hadn't said a word since they began cleaning. "And I saw the way you looked at him."

"You're imagining things, Mama," Olivia told her, wincing as she dipped her injured hand into the dish water.

Coming beside her, Greta took Olivia's hand from the water and held it up. "Look at what they did to you, and for a simple accident."

There was a deep gash on her palm and little knicks and cuts on her fingers. It burned more than anything but she was more afraid that the injury was going to affect how fast she completed her work. She didn't want to face a more severe punishment because she couldn't complete her tasks. Even worse, she didn't want to be relegated to the fields.

"I wasn't looking at him," Olivia denied again.

"Just know that he will never be yours. He has the devil in him and he will use you and throw you away just like every white man that came before him. You cannot trust them," Greta drilled once again.

"I know that Mama, I haven't forgotten what they did to Daddy," Olivia told her.

"Good. Don't ever forget that they'll do the same to you for," Greta reminded her, her tone harsh. Softening a little, she continued, "Now there's a new boy that just came in the other day. His name is Harrison and he comes from the Smith Plantation. It's time you start thinking about having a family."

"Why would I want a family? So that my chil'ren will have a life of being a slave? Of being beaten, of having to work until your body gives out?" Olivia asked, tears in her eyes.

"Olivia, the only pleasure in the life of our people, the only thing they can't wholly deny us, is love and you shouldn't live without it," Greta tried to get through to her daughter

"And if Master sells my babies? Sells my husband? Then what?" Olivia challenged.

"That's a chance you're going to have to be willing to take," Greta smiled sadly.

"And look what taking chances gets us. Got Daddy. Hung."

"Olivia, one day you'll learn to make the best of a horrible situation. Our way of life isn't going to change. We were born slaves and we're going to die slaves. You have your father's mind for imagination but you're going to have to deal with the life you have."

"Alright, Mama," Olivia conceded, not wanting to argue a moot point.

* * *

Olivia's stomach growled again. It was day two of not eating and she was starving. She was used to being hungry so the first day and a half wasn't an issue. But now, laying on her cot late at night is when she felt the hunger clawing at her stomach the most. She didn't know how she was supposed to get through her work the next day without fainting.

Then she heard a noise outside her door.

She immediately forgot about her hunger and grabbed the knife she kept nearby for such instances before turning so that her back was to the door. She was terrified of what would happen next. From having not have eaten, she knew that she was too weak to fight off the advances of Big Gerry. Her only hope was to kill him and run but she knew that in her state the slave catchers would get her if she ran. But the stubborn streak she inherited from her father wouldn't just let her lay there idle as she got raped. The only option was to run. She would have to hide in the forest during the day and let the North Star be her guide during the night. She prayed that if she made it further north to Maryland that she could find the runaway they called Moses and that she would lead her to freedom.

And then the door opened.

Her fingers curled even tighter around the knife as the door creaked open further, a soft glow from a candle illuminating the tiny space. She closed her eyes tight, hoping that if she pretended to be asleep that whoever was there would leave her alone. And if they didn't, she would fight or would die trying.

And then she heard the sweetest sound she'd ever heard. "Olivia?"

Tears of relief started pouring down her face and her body started shaking as deep sobs wracked her system. "Ssshhh…don't cry. It's me, Fitzgerald. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise," he whispered.

He set the candle down on the floor and went and sat on the edge of the small cot. The surface didn't give as he put his full weight on it and he wondered how she got any sleep at all with no pillow and only scraps of material for a blanket. His heart wept for her and for the others that had to go through the same thing.

"I brought you some food. I would've brought you some yesterday but my father was downstairs in his study all night," he explained, sounding sorry that he hadn't been able to get to her sooner.

Slowly, Olivia turned to face Fitzgerald. In his hand was plate containing three biscuits, three slices of ham, an apple, a piece of cheese, and a thick slice of cake that she had made earlier in the day. In his other hand was a glass of water and she started crying harder at the offering. The irony that he was giving her the food that she had made but was not allowed to have was not lost on her.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get you more, they would have noticed if I did. But I'll stash away more and will come back tomorrow night," he told her before getting up and heading towards the door, leaving the candle burning so that she wouldn't have to eat in the dark.

She wanted to thank him for his kindness. To tell him that this was more than enough, more than she ever had at one time. But all she could do was cry. After he was gone, she devoured the meal he brought for her. And for the first time in her life, she was full.

* * *

**AN: Big Gerry is an asshole. No if ands or buts about it. He's an asshole plain and simple, but so were most (granted not all, but the vast majority), plantation owners. But Fitz is Olivia's saving grace and we'll see how this relationship progresses. You all know me. I like to write...well...smut, lol. However, given the situation, I'm really going to have to develop trust between these two before I go there, so don't expect them to be hitting the sheets within these next couple of chapters. If you're feeling withdraw symptoms, go check out One Shots, Game On, Out of Nowhere, and Until You in the meantime, lol. Anyways, leave me review and let me know what you thought. **


	3. sasa unaona

**Disclaimer: I don't own Scandal.**

**AN: I want to say thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and follows, especially the reviews. The longer the better, lol. I love hearing from you guys and how you have dealt with the issue of slavery/racism or simply if you liked my chapter, so keep them coming. Anyways, here's the next chapter. Happy reading :)**

* * *

Olivia woke up bright and early the next morning, her energy up and a small smile gracing her lips. She was humming as she prepared the dough for the scones she was making for breakfast and even began to sing a little as she went out to collect eggs from the chicken coop. She grabbed her bucket and headed out into the early summer morning, the sun barely peaking above the tobacco plants. Already people were out and working, probably had been since the first signs of light. Songs of freedom drifted to Olivia's ears and she sang along to the sad melodies of God troubling the water.

As she got closer to the chicken coop, she stopped singing when she heard rustling in the hay. Normally this wouldn't alarm her because the chickens moved all the time, but there was also a figure crouched over one of the nests. She was about to turn and leave when she stepped on a branch and alerted him to her presence.

In his hands was a chicken hanging limp, its neck obviously broken. He also had two eggs in his other hand and looked as though he was about to kill another chicken. He looked almost savage, but beyond that was clear, obvious signs of desperation. Something she had felt more than once in her life.

"We's hungry. There are chi'ren that haven't eaten a decent meal in all their lives and I figured Master wouldn't notice two chickens and a couple of eggs missing," the man tried to explain, speaking fast.

"I ain't seen nothing," Olivia said, making it known she wasn't going to tell but she wasn't going to be a part of his thievery either. If they both got caught, well…she didn't want to think about it.

As she turned to leave, she heard the man call out to her. "I'm Harrison. I came here not too long ago from Smith Plantation.

Olivia remembered her mother telling her about a young man named Harrison. No wonder she liked him. There was something about the man that reminded her of her father. Eli would do the same thing. Early in the morning he would sneak to the chicken coop and grab two chickens and some eggs and that night he would skin and cook them and try to feed everyone as best he could, using every part of the chicken right down to the feet. He would only do this occasionally and would dig a hole outside of the coop to make it look like a fox had gotten in. Even though he was new, Olivia could tell that Harrison was the loyal type and would do whatever he could for people. Standing at his full height, Harrison was tall and broad and actually was quite handsome. His muscles that were born from hard work were on full display with a tattered pair of pants held up by a string being his only clothing. Even though he was handsome, she knew they wouldn't progress past friends.

"I'm Olivia," she returned.

"Oh, your Greta's daughter? She been telling me tales about her daughter in the big house. I was beginning to think she made you up," he said jokingly.

"I'm real," she assured him. "Look, you better get out of here before someone catches you," Olivia warned. "And next time, dig a hole so it looks like a critter got in here and make sure to hide the bones and shells real good."

"I will," he told her gratefully then hurried off to hide his loot until he could cook it tonight.

When Olivia was done collecting the eggs and preparing breakfast, she took a tray up to the Grant's master bedroom, dreading having to wake such wretched people. She knew it was wrong, but every night she would pray that God didn't wake them up. That they had died in their sleep, freeing them all from the terror that was Big Gerry.

"Master Grant, Mrs. Grant, it's time to wake up," Olivia called softly, setting the tray down on the table near the window.

They stirred a little, but they didn't fully wake. Olivia hated when this happened. This meant she had to raise her voice and every time she did, Big Gerry would yell at her for 'yelling' and would threaten to make sure she never spoke another word again.

As she stared down at their sleeping bodies, she realized how easy it would be to take the pillow and smother them in their sleep. She would have to kill Big Gerry first then Mrs. Grant. But then what? She knew Cyrus wouldn't let her even step foot one inch off the land before he had her lynched. But in a way, it would be worth it.

"Master Grant. Mrs. Grant," Olivia called again just as lightly.

Finally Mrs. Grant opened her eyes and Olivia was relieved that she wouldn't have to call to them again. Sitting up in the bed, Mrs. Grant learned over and shook her husband awake. They stretched some and wiped the sleep from their eyes, both yawning and trying to fully wake up.

"Bring that food over here, girl," Big Gerry commanded, his voice still rough with sleep.

Olivia did as she was told, fixing his coffee just the way he liked before setting the cup on his nightstand and putting the food in his lap. She went back to get Mrs. Grant's food and fixed her tea the way she liked before stepping away.

"Is the anything else I can get for you Master," Olivia asked, keeping her eyes down.

"No, but you can answer me a question," Big Gerry began. "Are you hungry? It's been three days since you've last eaten."

This was a trick question. This wasn't the first time Olivia had been punished with starvation. The last time he hadn't let her eat for two days and when she brought him his meal in the morning, he had asked her the same question. Thinking she would get in trouble for lying, she answered honestly. What he did next had been unthinkable. He chewed up his pancake, spit it out on his hand, and made Olivia eat it. Telling her that she should be grateful, that dogs usually didn't get fed people food. She had thrown up immediately after and had lost her appetite even when he let her eat that night.

"No Master," she answered somewhat honestly. She had eaten the rest of the apple that Fitz had given her last night and while it wasn't filling, it was something.

"Good, so you won't mind going another day without food," Big Gerry deemed.

"Now Gerry, we can't have the girl go dropping dead of starvation. She's my best house nigger and I'll be damned if I have to train another so soon," Mrs. Grant defended, though it was more for her benefit than Olivia's.

"The girl has got to learn, Ginny. But you're right. Tonight you can eat, but not a second sooner than when I say. If I catch you stealing from me, I'll cut off your hand and sell you Peterson," Big Gerry threatened, Olivia having no doubt that he meant it.

"Yes Master," Olivia replied even though a question hadn't been asked. Big Gerry demanded an answer to everything he said.

"Good, now get."

When she left the Grant's room, she went back to the kitchen to get Fitzgerald's breakfast before heading to his bedroom to wake him up. Her heart rate picked up as she neared his door and her palms became sweaty. When she entered, he was laying on top of the covers only in an undershirt and his underwear. His hair was in a mass of unruly curls and his mouth was open in a slight snore. He was gorgeous.

"Master Fitzgerald," Olivia called out, trying to wake him.

He didn't even move. He kept on sleeping, his breathing still even, his stomach moving up and down rhythmically. "Master Fitzgerald…"

He still didn't move and had he not been breathing, she would've been worried. Moving towards the edge of the bed, she put her hand out tentatively, the appendage shaking as she neared his body. Her breathing sped up and she almost pulled her hand away. But at the last minute, she gently placed it on his shoulder and felt the warm flesh beneath her fingertips. She shook him as lightly as possible and immediately stepped back, her fingertips still tingling from touching him.

He shifted on the bed and groaned, bringing his hand up to rub his still closed eyes. He looked disheveled and tired and absolutely adorable. He stretched his long limbs, groaning as he worked out the kinks brought about from sleeping and Olivia bit her lip at the sight of his muscles stretching underneath his skin.

"Good morning," he said groggily, adding a lazy smile that made her insides warm.

"I have your breakfast," Olivia told him, turning to get it from the nightstand.

"Thank you," he said as he took her offering. "Have I ever told you that you make _thee best_ jam this side of Mississippi? Heck, in the whole world," he asked her around a mouthful of food.

She blushed and a smile formed at the corner of lips from the compliment. Not once had she heard that she was truly appreciated and she knew that the only person that would be telling her so was Fitz. At least until he married Mellie and left her here by herself.

"Is that…is that a smile I see?" he teased, smiling brightly at her. "Well I'll be damned, it is. You're so beautiful, do you know that? You should smile more often," he told her, thinking he was paying her a compliment.

Though she knew his heart was in the right place, the comment made her made angry. What exactly did she have to smile about? The fact that she can't go anywhere without a wearing a tag saying who she belonged to? The fact that if she even looked at Master wrong it would get her beat and starved. Or maybe she should be happy that she got to sleep in a closet the size of a coffin and that she would never be free.

But all that came out was, "Yes sir."

He seemed to realize his mistake and scrambled quickly to cover up his blunder. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way. I know…"

"You don't know," she whispered, then quickly put a hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide and wishing to take back what she just said. She had never back talked before in her life and was scared about what he was going to do to her.

"You're right, I don't know. I'm just…I'm sorry," he sighed, knowing that he had just set them back a step.

"Do you need anything else, sir?" Olivia asked, going towards the door.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you again for breakfast," he told her, his tone a little bleaker.

Olivia nodded her head and turned to leave the room, but his voice stopped her. "I'll be in your room close to midnight with food. I don't want you to be afraid when you hear me coming."

While she appreciated the warning, she'd always be cautious. It was just in her nature.

* * *

"It's time you start helping Cyrus out in the fields, Fitz," Big Gerry told his son.

They were sitting in his study, Cyrus having joined them, when Big Gerry dropped the bombshell. Fitz knew that this day was coming. He had been dreading it since he turned thirteen. He knew that his father wanted to mold him in his image, wanted to groom him to take over the plantation when the time was right. But Fitz couldn't see himself doing it.

"I could definitely use the help. There's an auction coming up soon and they're supposed to have some fine specimens. Maybe Fitzgerald could come with me on my trip," Cyrus informed them.

Cyrus was an odd man. There was something off about him that Fitz couldn't place his finger on. Maybe it was the way he stared at the men slaves as if they were women. Or maybe it was how he was only particularly cruel when Big Gerry was around but was more lenient when he thought no one was looking. Make no mistake; Cyrus could definitely be a bastard. He was known for having a heavy hand and would lay lashes on someone he thought did wrong, but then there were small bursts of kindness, of humanity, that Fitz noticed. It was almost as if he knew what it was like to be viewed as anything less than a child of God, knew what it was like to never be accepted for something you can't control. Cyrus was an enigma that Fitz didn't really want to figure out because he knew whatever it was, it would only cause probable.

"That's a great idea, Cy. Where's the auction?" Big Gerry asked, putting his boots up on his desk.

"It's in Fayetteville which is about a little more than half a day's journey from here. I know that it's far but they always have the best buys for a fair price," Cyrus told them.

"I think that it will be a good experience for Fitz so that he will know what to look for when he has to start going to market. I want you to show him how to pick the best ones and how to haggle the price down so that we're not overpaying," Big Gerry said.

"Of course, sir. Wouldn't have it any other way," Cyrus agreed.

"Good. Good. You guys can go in a few days, but in the meantime, I want you to start in the fields tomorrow, you understand Fitz?" Big Gerry questioned his son.

Fitz really didn't want to be in the fields so soon, ever if he could help it. But he also knew that he couldn't go against his father. It was an impossible situation and if he was going to get out of here unscathed, he'd have to go along with things. For now.

"Yes, father," Fitz answered and Big Gerry nodded his head with satisfaction.

* * *

"I passed by Harrison this morning on my way into the house and he said that he saw you in the chicken coops. I think he was quite smitten," Greta informed her daughter.

They were in the kitchen, finishing up the last of the dishes when her mother finally approached the subject. Olivia knew it was only a matter of time before her mother brought up Harrison. She had been quite all through cooking dinner and through most of the cleanup and Olivia knew that she was just biding her time until she could talk to her daughter.

"I think he's nice, Mama. He reminds me of daddy," Olivia told her, drying a plate.

"That's exactly what I thought," Greta said triumphantly.

"But Mama, there's no way we can be together. I'm here in the house and he's out in the fields. It's an impossible situation," Olivia sighed.

"I think that it's time you ask Mrs. Grant if you can stay in the quarters again. Your my only baby and I miss you and the time we got to spend together outside of the house," Greta told her, laying the guilt on thick.

"I don't want to live in the quarters, Mama," Olivia said quietly, afraid of hurting her mother's feelings.

"They got to you didn't they?" Greta asked her accusingly.

"What do you mean?" Olivia questioned back, setting down the dishrag and giving her mother her full attention.

"You think that you're too good to live with the rest of us," Greta charged, squinting her eyes and folding her arms across her chest.

"Weren't you the one telling me that I needed to be the best, that I needed to be better than everyone else so that I could stay in the house? And now that I am, you think I think I'm too good to live in the quarters," Olivia shook her head in disbelief.

"I know why you don't want to leave. It's because of that boy isn't it? You need to get that dream out of your head right now. It's never going to happen, it goes against nature," Greta reiterated.

"What? No. I already told you that there is nothing…"

"GRETA!"

They both jumped at the sound of Big Gerry's voice. He didn't sound angry, but there was something to his tone that made Olivia even more fearful than when he was angry. The look that came across her mother's face was one of fear, of anger, and finally one of resignation. Greta took a deep breath, wiped her hands on her apron before she took it off and left the kitchen.

No.

No. No. No. No. No. Olivia had seen that face on other women before and she prayed that she'd never see it on her mother. That she'd never have to experience it herself. She was hoping against hope that that look wasn't what she thought it was, that it was something different. But she knew. She knew exactly what was happening. But still, she found herself heading to Big Gerry's study praying that she'd be proven wrong.

She stopped just outside of the door, a crack in it letting her see into the room. Her mother was bent over the desk, a pained look on her face as she waited for the assault to be over. Big Gerry was sweating and panting behind her, completely oblivious to the fact that he had an audience. But Greta wasn't. Her eyes met Olivia's and a look of shame crossed her face, but not before she saw a plea that said 'help me.'

She wanted to go in there and pull Gerry off of her mother. Wanted to take the latern that was on the desk and hit him repeatedly in the head until he was no longer moving. She wanted to take her mother's hand and flee from this God awful place, knowing there had to be something better than this. Anything better than this.

But instead, she ran away, only getting to the kitchen before she broke down and cried. She crumbled to the floor, her knees giving out from the force of her sorrow. Deep sobs wracked her body and she shuddered and hiccupped as she wept as quietly as possible for her mother. Wept for the pain that she had to go through. For the pain that thousands of other women had to go through at the hands of their masters.

She heard footsteps and tried to get herself together but to no avail. Luckily it was her mother, and when Greta saw her baby on the floor, she was right there next to her, wrapping her up in her embrace and rocking her back and force.

"Now do you see? They're the devils. Every single one of them. I see the way they be looking at you. I can't protect you at night if you're here, baby. Now do you see?" Greta whispered into Olivia's hair.

"Am I…is he…my fa…" she couldn't even force the words past her lips.

"No. He's not your father, Eli was," Greta promised.

"I'm so sorry, Mama," Olivia cried, not knowing what else to say.

"Ssshhh…it's okay. It just is what it is. Now do you see? Now do you see?"

* * *

That night when she heard footsteps outside of her door she was even more cautious than before. And not just for Big Gerry, but for Fitz too. Was he just trying to gain her trust to get her to let her guard down so that he could take advantage of her when she least expected it? Would he turn into his father in a few years? All she knew was that she would never let her walls down and she'd always be on guard.

The door creaked open and even though she didn't want to be, she was happy that it was Fitz. Half of her was happy that it wasn't Big Gerry and the other half was just genuinely glad that Fitz had stayed true to his word and that she would get to see him. She felt wrong having these feelings that she did for him, but there was nothing she could do to stop them.

"Olivia? You awake? It's me," he whispered, his head peeking around the door.

"I'm up," she answered back just as quietly.

He came fully into the space, shutting the door behind him. This time he had a lantern with him, the glow from the candle inside brightening the room significantly. She nearly licked her lips at the sight of the plate he held in his hands. That night for her dinner, Cyrus had thrown at her a three day old piece of bread and a tough piece of beef that she couldn't even chew. He said that Big Gerry was still punishing and when he felt like he was truly repaid, then she'd get more. Going on faith alone that Fitz was coming that night, she hadn't even touched the near rancid food. She stored it away under her cot, keeping it just in case he didn't come.

And she was glad that she hadn't eaten the meal, if you could call it that, because it probably would have made her sick and she wouldn't have been able to eat what Fitz brought her. On the plate this time was fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, a fresh roll, and green beans. He also had brought her two apples and another piece of cake. Instead of just setting it down and leaving like he did last time, he handed it to her then sat next to her on the cot.

Of this she became suspicious.

But then her stomach growled and reminded her that she hadn't eaten anything all day and she was starving. She wanted to eat like a lady, for some reason embarrassed to look like a pig in front of him, but hunger won out over dignity and she was soon shoveling food in her mouth, not even waiting to swallow before taking another bite.

"Slow down or you're going to make yourself sick," Fitz said half joking, half serious. "I'm not going to take it from you," he promised.

She did slow down, actually stopping to taste the food and chew it before she dug into the next morsel. And he just sat there quietly watching her eat, not moving a muscle and not saying a word. She guessed he must have known that if he moved, she would've jumped out of fright and would've ended up dropping the food on the ground. As hungry as she was, she would've eaten it still. It wouldn't be the first time.

When she was full, she stopped. She still had an apple and a piece of chicken that she was saving for tomorrow just in case he didn't show. But in her gut, she knew that he would. Wiping her mouth on her arm, she looked up at him and waited for him to speak.

"I know you're wondering why I'm still here, I just…I bought this for you in town today," he told her, taking out a small jar from his pocket.

She could tell that he wanted to say something else and she was both disappointed and grateful that he didn't. Untwisting the lid from the jar, he dipped his finger in what looked like some type grease and he reached for her injured hand, stopping just before he touched her and looked to her for permission. She nodded her consent and he took it gently, facing the palm towards him and rubbing the ointment onto her wound.

"The man at the drug store said that this would help it heal better and will keep it from getting infected," he told her, rubbing it in soothingly so as not to hurt her. "I would've gotten it sooner, but I didn't have enough money," he explained.

She had to admit that it did feel better. Or maybe it was from the fact that he was touching her. She didn't know. All she knew was that she was grateful beyond expression. She hadn't been able to close her fist for days without a sharp pain shooting up her arm. Taking a cloth out of his pocket, he wrapped up her hand for her, tight enough not to slip, but loose enough for it not to hurt. She knew that in the morning she'd have to take it off or Big Gerry would wonder where she got it from, but for now, she let herself be taken care of.

"Thank you," she said meekly, almost shyly.

"It's my pleasure," he smiled at her and she found herself returning it.

He got up to leave, taking the lantern and her dirty dishes with him but leaving her the ointment. She didn't want him to go. She was so alone all the time. She had no friends and she only saw her mother when they were working. She craved human contact as was natural for most people and these stolen moments with Fitz were making her dependent on his attention. Already. She was afraid of what would happen if they continued but was more afraid of what would happen to her psyche if they didn't.

He was almost to the door when she stopped him. "Fitz-…I mean, sir, will you be back tomorrow?" she asked, barely even hearing her own question her tone was so low.

"I'll be back every day. I promise," he confirmed, then shut the door and left her alone in the dark.

Good. Maybe she wouldn't be so alone anymore.

* * *

**AN: So another hard chapter. I tried to be as suggestive as possible when dealing with what Big Gerry did to Greta but still clear in what was happening. I cringed myself when writing I was writing so I know it might have been hard to read. But again, it is something that was a reality during this time and was quite common and something that needed to be addressed. I hope I haven't scared you all away. With Big Gerry being so awful and the topic itself being awful, I try to make Fitz as nice as possible without it being overly so and that's why Olivia is still cautious and not jumping all over him. But their attraction is there, subtle right now, but will be kicked up. Anyways, if you haven't noticed, I will be adding little elements of real history, last chapter it was "Moses", who was Harriet Tubman. This chapter it was _Wade in the water, _a popular negro spiritual that I'm sure everyone has heard at least once. Also the market in Fayetteville, NC is real and it is still standing, I've been there myself, so go ahead and give it a quick google search. Anyways, leave a review telling me what you thought or of little elements of history that you find intriguing. **


	4. minada

**Disclaimer" I don't own Scandal.**

**AN: So i know I'm a tad late, but with Scandal yesterday, I figured nobody would miss me. Happy reading :)**

* * *

Olivia was still reeling from the knowledge that Big Gerry had been raping her mother. She wanted to scream, wanted to cry and shout until she was hoarse. But then what? She hated to think that she had become jaded at such a young age, but it was the reality. But then there was a light, a dim flame that was growing stronger and stronger with each passing day. Fitz was becoming something that she didn't want to name. She was terrified of…of falling for him. She knew that nothing could ever seriously become of them and she didn't just want to become his concubine, his play thing that he had in the shadows while he paraded his real family in the broad daylight.

And yet…

And yet she could feel herself slipping, tumbling, and yes, falling for him. She had always thought he was cute and knew from a young age that he was different than other white people. But now that he's turned his attention on her, now that he was interacting with her on a one on one basis, she learned more than she could've ever imagined about him. She looked forward to their night time meetings, dreading the day when they stopped but knowing that one day they would. It was just what happened. He would marry Mellie and forget all about her, but for now, she'd take all she could get.

The day passed by slowly, time crawling by as she eagerly waited for night to fall and for the house to go silent. She couldn't wait until she could go back to her room and wait for Fitz to come to her. She knew it was dangerous, that she was dead if they got caught, but she couldn't stop herself from anticipating his visits.

Finally the sun retired, gladly trading places with the moon. When all of her chores were finally done, she looked at the clock before going to her room and saw it was ten. Only two more hours and he'd be there. She knew that the hands on the clock would tick by as slow as possible, not even father time wanting her to experience one moment of happiness. But begrudgingly, he would have to oblige her. And oblige her he did.

The door opened and the lantern once again illuminated the space. This time she didn't even pretend that she hadn't been waiting for him. She was sitting up on her cot, her fingers on the edge and her feet on floor.

"Hi," he greeted her, setting the lantern down and handing her a plate of food.

"Hi," she whispered back, afraid to go up an octave thinking that it would wake someone.

They fell silent while she ate but it wasn't awkward. It was a comfortable silence that was shared between companions that had known each other for years. And in a way they had known each other, had existed in the space for years. But they were just now getting to _know_ each other and that they were this comfortable this fast was alarming.

"I want to show you something," Fitz said when she was done.

"Ok?" Olivia responded, a little suspicious.

Taking out a folded slip of paper from his pocket, Fitz unfolded the paper delicately then handed it to Olivia. She looked down at what he had handed her, confused at the strange symbols on the paper. She knew that they were letters but she had no idea what it said.

"What is this?" she asked, still staring down at the paper.

"That's your name. O. L.I.V.I.A," he pronounced each letter slowly, pointing to them as he said it. "Olivia."

Tears formed in her eyes as she realized what she was looking at. She had never seen anything so beautiful, well, anything other than Fitz. And to know that she knew what it said, to know that it was her name, that she was reading her name, it was a feeling that she couldn't describe. She traced the letters with her fingertips over and over again. Luckily he had used ink and it was dry so it didn't smudge.

"Would you like to learn to read and write?" Fitz asked tentatively.

"Are you…are you serious?" She questioned, completely blown away that he would risk her life and his to teach her.

"If you want to, I'll show you how," Fitz told her.

"But it's against the law. They won't just kill me, they'll punish you too if anyone finds out. We ain't supposed to know how to read and write," Olivia said, both scared and excited.

"I know. But if you want to learn, I'll show you. I still have my old lesson books from when I first started learning. I could bring them with me when I visit. No one will ever find out," Fitz tried to convince her.

More than anything she wanted to learn how to read. She would dust the books in Big Gerry's study and would run her finger along the spine wishing she knew what it said. Knowing how to read and write was seen as the ultimate freedom for some and if Olivia was ever going to be truly free, she knew that she'd need to know how to do both.

"Okay," was all she said, thinking if she said more she'd jinx herself.

"Great. I just know you'll take right to it," Fitz smiled her favorite crooked smile and she smiled back.

No one had ever thought she was smart before.

"We'll start off easy. I'll teach you the alphabet and we can go from there. Ok?" He asked, making sure she was comfortable with this and that she really wanted to learn.

She nodded her head, but then said, "Can I…can I write my name first?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," Fitz said in a tone that relayed how happy he was that she was taking initiative.

He took a pencil out of his pocket and handed it to her. Right below the letters he had written, with a shaky hand, Olivia began to imitate what was already sketched out. Her 'O' was wobbly but she wasn't deterred. She kept going until she had completed her name, a huge sense of pride and accomplishment washing over her. It didn't look as neat as his, not even close, but she didn't care. She had written her name and that's all that mattered.

"That's great. With practice, you'll get even better and will be writing in cursive in no time," he told her, making her feel even better.

Before she could stop herself, she was wrapping her arms around him. He was caught off guard but soon recovered and hugged her back. She felt so right in his arms, her soft form molded to his in the most perfect of ways. He breathed in her scent, the floral smell of jasmine that she used in the soap she made herself tickled his nose. He was so caught up that he didn't feel her shudder beneath him, her body shaking. Tears were dripping into his shirt and for a minute, he thought that he did something wrong.

"Thank you," she sobbed, "thank you so much."

"Oh, Livi, you're so welcome," he breathed back.

No one had ever called her Livi before, but she liked the way it sounded on his tongue. She felt special and important and…loved. It felt good.

"Ready to start?" He asked after she pulled back and Olivia nodded her head empathically.

* * *

"I have to tell you something," Fitz began tentatively the next night.

Olivia instantly felt a wave of sadness come over her. Here it comes. He was never coming back. She'd have to go back to being alone. He was done with her and there was nothing she could do to convince him otherwise. She knew their time together would come to an end eventually, but to think it was so soon was causing an ache in her heart.

"Okay," she responded, preparing herself.

"My father is making me go to an auction in the morning and we're going to be staying overnight because it's so far. So I won't be able to see you tomorrow night, but I'll be back before you know it," he tried to give her a smile.

One night. She could do one night. She had been without him all her life up until a week ago. One night wouldn't hurt, she tried to reason to herself. It would kill her. She realized that when Fitz was with her, she felt safe. She hadn't felt that since her dad died and for those few hours they were together, she didn't worry about anything. She beat herself up about feeling that way, but there was nothing she could do about it.

"Just one night?" She asked, needing to make sure that he'd come back. That he'd come back to her.

"Just one night. Since I won't be here tomorrow, I brought you enough food to last you," he told her, taking off his satchel and picking out the contents.

He had wrapped food in a cloth for her and she was happy to see that he thought about her in his absence. It was going to be a hard night without him, but she was strong and had survived much worse. She'd miss him that was for sure, but she believed him when he said he'd be back.

"Are you ready to start your lesson?" Fitz asked, taking out a pencil and a piece of paper.

He sharpened the pencil to a fine point with his pocket knife then handed it to Olivia. Learning had become the second best thing to ever happen to her. Being able to understand a whole new side of life gave her a sense of mental freedom that was feeding her soul until her she could be physically free as well.

"Yes." She couldn't keep the smile from her face.

"Good. Where were we…"

* * *

Before day break, Cyrus and Fitz were hitching the horse up to the wagon, checking to make sure that everything was secure before their big trip. They packed enough food and water to last them the journey and made sure they had enough horse food and food for the potential slaves as well. Big Gerry had given them eight hundred dollars and told them to come back two strong men ready to work.

The journey was a long one. Way longer than Fitz had ever been in his life. And yet it was nice to see different parts of the country he lived in, even if it was only the next state over. One the way, they passed a few plantations and he could see slaves picking cotton and indigo in the fields. Seeing it from the outside, from this prospective, it made him feel sick that he was an intricate part of it. That he was traveling to_ buy people_, a concept that made no sense to him.

Finally a little after noon, they made it to the Fayetteville. The downtown was thriving with people wanting to buy people. It was despicable. In the middle of it all was a structure that looked almost like a church. The bottom was open with arches providing support for the top. The second story was enclosed, large balconies on either side of the main part of the building. On the way there, Cyrus had explained that it also doubled as town hall and on regular weekends, farmers would come and sell their produce. So in the same place, you could buy your vegetables and the person to cook it for you. What a shame.

At the very top was a clock showing the time and Fitz couldn't help but hope that they'd be out of here soon. He looked around again, seeing black men, women, and children, even infants, on platforms being looked at like cattle while bidders called out numbers hoping to get a good deal. Most of the men were naked except for a cloth covering their waists and they looked to be oiled down. Fitz guessed that it was so that the prospectors could see their muscles.

"This type of market is the one where the slave goes to the higher bidder, unless you have friends in the trade like I do. Another type of auction is grab and go. I don't like those ones because you have to pay for the slave before you even get to inspect them and you have to compete to get the ones you want. This way is much more civilized," Cyrus schooled Fitz.

Fitz had to shake his head at his description of the practice being civilized. They walked further into the market, Cyrus stopping at some of the platforms to view the people. Other people that were looking were opening the slave's mouths, grabbing their arms, making them jump up high and crouch down low to show off their flexibility. The buyers would push the men to test their strength then move on to the next if they weren't satisfied.

Stopping, Cyrus began inspecting a mammoth of a man. He was huge and slightly intimidating. Cyrus circled him and Fitz did the same. The man had whip marks on his back and when they circled back around Fitz could see an 'r' burned into his cheek branding him a runaway.

"How much for him," Cyrus asked the auctioneer that was standing by.

"This one here is a top specimen. Seven hundred," They auctioneer started the sale.

"Three hundred," Cyrus offered back.

"You must be out of your mind. Do you see how big this Mandingo is? He can plow faster than any mule I know. Seven hundred," the auctioneer said again.

"What I see is the whip marks on his back and the 'r' on his cheek which tells me he's a trouble maker. I bet he gave his master heaps of trouble and that's why he's selling him. I can also bet that he told you to sell him cheap to the first bidder. So again I say, three hundred," Cyrus bargained.

"Deal," the auctioneer said begrudgingly then went to unshackle their purchase.

"Do you see Fitzgerald? You have to have a keen eye so that you don't get taken advantage of. Look at everything, every detail, so that you make the best buy for your money," Cyrus told him.

Fitz just nodded his head, completely silent.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. They walked around the market, looking at every person they had to offer. The look of despair on the slaves faces only seemed to affect Fitz. He guessed that everyone else was immune. Some people had made this a family outing. There were husbands picking a woman to assist his wife and children pointing and saying 'I want that one' as if the person were a piece of candy, a toy on the shelf.

Around six, they gave up the search, deciding that they would try again in the morning when Cyrus's friend Hollis was in town. According to Cyrus, Hollis always gave the best deal, but not after making you work for it first.

They walked a short distance to a hotel, leaving their purchase in the slave pens until they were ready to leave the next day. They had dinner in the hotel, Cyrus going on and on about how to haggle in an auction and telling Fitz that he was going to give him a chance to buy the next day. Fitz remained silent through dinner, only nodding and pushing his food around, wondering if Olivia had enough to eat that night.

He missed her already, spending most of his day wondering what she was doing , hoping that she was okay and that no one was giving her any trouble. He wondered if she were missing him too, wondering if she were thinking about him at this very moment.

"We're starting again bright and early tomorrow morning," Cyrus interrupted his thoughts.

"Okay. Goodnight," Fitz said, getting up from the table, happy that the day was finally over.

Even though he was physically and mentally exhausted, he knew he wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight.

* * *

Hundreds of miles away, Olivia lay on her cot thinking of Fitz. She couldn't fall asleep no matter how hard she tried so she finally gave up. Lighting a match that she took from the kitchen earlier, she lit the candle that Fitz had left for her. Getting off the cot, she went to her secret hiding place, a loose floorboard that she had discovered and had pulled up one day. She had been putting her ointment, the extra food Fitz gave her, and now her pencil and paper in it, knowing that no one would ever think to look there.

She had memorized her ABC's, repeating them over and over to herself as she did her work and could now recite them in her sleep. Fitz had written down a few words for her to learn while he was away, showing her how to pronounce each letter and how to sound it out before putting it all together. She was getting better by the day, diving head first into it and trying the sound of each word she saw throughout the day.

While she was very proud of herself, she wanted to Fitz to be proud of her too. She wanted to impress him when he got back with having learned all the words he gave her. So instead of sleep, she repeated the words over and over, finding it funny how the language she spoke all her life was so foreign when it was written on paper.

She couldn't wait for tomorrow.

* * *

"Hollis!" Cyrus greeted. "Tell me you have something good for me. Oh, this Grant's boy Fitzgerald."

They had gotten up early in the morning, Cyrus saying that this was best time because people would just be getting in and all the good slaves would still be there. Fitz adjusted his vest then stuck his hand out to shake Hollis'. Hollis was a slick talker, his dirty blonde hair greased back and he had on his finest clothes to speak of his wealth. When he smiled, Fitz noticed one of his teeth was missing which made the grin all the more cynical.

"Of course I do. Right this way," Hollis said then led them to his selling area.

Up on the platform was a family. A husband, a wife, and a son and daughter. The children were huddled close to their mother, fear in their eyes and every so often they would wince from having the shackles dig into their ankles. The man was tall and broad and looked strong. Fitz knew that Cyrus would be interested and he hoped that he wouldn't separate them.

"This right here is Elisha. He comes from an estate that had two plantations but the family broke up or couldn't pay their debts or something like that. Anyways, he's never been sold, grew up on that plantation all his life so he's very loyal. Never tried to run away once," Hollis pitched. "Go ahead, Elisha, tell the men about yourself."

"_Look at me, Mas'r; am prime rice planter; sho' you won't find a better man den me; no better on de whole plantation; not a bit old yet; do mo' work den ever; do carpenter work, too, little; better buy me, Mas'r; I'se be good sarvant, Mas'r." _

"How much for the man?" Cyrus asked, pointing to Elisha.

"Five hundred for the man, two hundred for the woman and one hundred for both kids," Hollis told him.

"Three hundred for the man only and you'll have a deal," Cyrus bargained.

"Now, Cy, you know I can't go giving you my best merchandise for dirt cheap. You're going to have to raise the price," Hollis haggled.

"After all the business I've brought you, Hollis. Surely you can come down some," Cyrus tried again.

"400 hundred, that's as low as I'm going," Hollis said, putting his foot down.

"350," Cyrus threw out.

"375 and not a penny lower," Hollis said with finality in his voice.

"You have yourself a deal," Cyrus said, handing Hollis the money and shaking his hand to make the deal final.

Hollis brought out the bill of sale and pointed to where he wanted Cyrus to sign and just like that, Big Gerry owned another human being. Once the deal was done and Elisha realized his family wasn't coming with him, he started trying to persuade Cyrus to buy them as well.

"_Molly, too, my wife, Sa, fus rate rice hand; mos as good as me. Stan' out yer, Molly, and let the gen'lm'n see."_

_Molly advanced, with her hands crossed on her bosom, and made a quick short curtsy, and stood mute, looking appealingly in the benevolent man's face._

Elisha could tell that Cyrus wasn't sold. Fitz could see him scrambling to come up with something, anything, that would convince Cyrus to buy his family too. He began promising that he would work twice as hard, that his wife was an equally hard worker and his son and daughter would grow to do the same. Fitz could see that Cyrus wasn't interested.

_But Elisha talked all the faster._

_'Show mas'r yer arm Molly - good arm dat mas'r - she do a heap of work mo' with dat arm yet. Let good mas'r see yer teeth Molly - see dat mas'r, teeth all reg'lar, all good - she'm young gal yet. Come out yer Israel, walk aroun' an' let the gen'lm'n see how spry you be.'_

The boy come to front, and began jumping and crouching like the other men had. He did jumping jacks and ran in place, doing everything he possibly could to impress Cyrus. But it wasn't working.

"I don't want your wife or your children. I only want you. Now let's go," Cyrus demanded.

But Elisha wasn't deterred. He kept on going as if he hadn't heard Cyrus at all.

_Then, pointing to the three-year-old girl who stood with her chubby hand to her mouth, holding on to her mother's dress, and uncertain what to make of the strange scene._

"_Little Vardy's on'y a chile yet; make prime gal by-and-by. Better buy us mas'r, we'm fus' rate bargain." _

"I said no! Now let's go," Cyrus yelled and the children began to cry.

"Cyrus. Maybe we should get them too," Fitz tried to reason as the children cried louder.

"Fitzgerald you have to realize that you can't buy them all. All this whining and crying, they'll get over it. They don't have feelings like we do, they're adapted to get over things quickly," Cyrus explained.

"At least give him a chance to say goodbye," Fitz tried to reason.

"No, it needs to be done quick and painless," Cyrus told him, then signaled the man that was helping Hollis to get Elisha down from the platform.

Molly held on for dear life, grabbing at her husband's arm and begging Cyrus to buy them too. But it was all in vain. The auctioneer slapped her clear across the face and told her to hush her mouth before he made sure that her children were sold to lowest bidder. Elisha was telling them to be strong, telling his crying children that he loved them and that one day, in glory, they'd be together again.

The auctioneer unshackled Elisha from his family then re-shackled his ankles so that he couldn't get away. He then cuffed his hands together and attached a chain to it so that Cyrus could lead him, almost like a dog on a leash.

* * *

"It's getting late," Cyrus said after another long day, "we better find somewhere to camp for the night until we can head out in the morning."

A panic shot through Fitz. He promised Olivia that he'd be back tonight. Looking at his pocket watch, he saw that it was just after six. If they hurried, he'd be late, but he could still keep his promise. He had to convince Cyrus to leave now.

"I think we should head back now," Fitz spoke up. "Big Gerry is expecting us back tonight."

"I'm sure he'll understand," Cyrus said, still bent on staying the night.

Thinking quick on his feet, Fitz brought up, "Cy, today is Saturday."

"I'm well aware of the day, Fitzgerald. What is the point?" He gave Fitz an incredulous look and waited for him to say why the day mattered.

"Tomorrow is Sunday and you know how my father feels about anyone missing church. The last time you did he docked you pay for two weeks," Fitz reminded him.

Cyrus cursed under his breath. He knew that Big Gerry wouldn't care about the excuse, just that they had been absent. For all his wretchedness, Big Gerry was a devout Christian, often reading the bible and making it mandatory for everyone to attend Sunday service. The only problem was, Big Gerry interpreted the word to fit his own needs and neglected the parts he needed to know most.

"You're right. We'll head back tonight," Cyrus conceded with a sigh.

Fitz breathed a breath of relief, not being able to keep the smile off his face that he'd make it back tonight. He just hoped Olivia wouldn't be too upset with him for being late. They tied the two new slaves to the inside of wagon and made their way back to Virginia.

* * *

Olivia felt the tears spilling out of her eyes before she could even stop them. He had promised and now he wasn't here. She stayed up and waited for him for what felt like hours and he never came. Every thought went through her mind. Maybe he got hurt on the way. Maybe he died. Maybe he met a nice North Carolina girl and decided to marry her and stay there. She ran the gamut, hating herself for trusting anything that he told her. Part of her also knew that he hadn't broken his promise intentionally. That if he could be here, he would be. But he wasn't and she couldn't stop herself from crying.

Eventually she fell asleep, her head pounding, her nose running, and her stomach grumbling. She was so exhausted that she didn't hear the door open and didn't feel the hand shaking her awake until it was too late for her to defend herself. The hand shook her again and this time she did wake, at first barely but then on full alert. She was immediately aware of her surroundings and her heart pounded in fear for what was about to happen now. But then her eyes adjusted to soft glow from the lantern and she saw it was Fitz. Before she could stop herself, she was in his arms.

"I thought you weren't coming back," she cried into his shirt.

"I'm so sorry that I'm late," he apologized. "I'm so sorry."

"I thought you weren't coming back…"She buried her face into his chest and he hugged her tighter.

Pushing her back gently, he took her face in his hands and wiped the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. He was so gentle and she felt herself leaning into his palms. Peeking up at him, her lips parted in soft gasp when she saw the emotions swimming in his eyes. His gaze shifted to mouth and she could hear his breath hitch. Unconsciously, she leaned in closer, her eyes closing as she waited for him. He groaned softly then pressed his mouth to hers lightly, almost like he wasn't kissing her at all.

Through sheer courage and need, she pressed closer, fully kissing him. She was unprepared for the rush she would feel from kiss. Her lips tingled and she opened them at the sensation, not aware then she was inviting him in. Bu then the tip of his tongue glided over her bottom lip before plunging in deep. She moaned twisted her fingers in his hair to bring him closer. The texture of his hair, so different than hers, let her easily slide her fingers through and she scratched at his scalp.

She never knew that she could feel like this. The feelings that were settling in the pit of her belly were foreign, the warmth spreading outward and creating a throb in a place she didn't know could feel that way. She wanted more. Wanted to feel more, wanted to kiss him more, wanted to touch him more.

But then he was pulling away.

She was panting and running a fingertip across her swollen, not sure if she was dreaming or not. From the way he was looking at her, he could tell that he was thinking the same thing. That he wanted to do it again and again and again. But something was holding him back.

"I…the sun will be coming up soon. I better be going before someone catches me in here," he told her, his voice husky and a little shaky. "I made you a sandwich and brought you an apple. It was all I could find at this time of night."

"It's okay," she said softly, not even concerned about food right now.

"Olivia, I really like you," Fitz started. "I just wanted you to know that."

She smiled shyly and blushed, feeling the exact same way but was not able to voice it, to be that vulnerable yet. She was two steps away from fully trusting him and she knew it was only a matter of time before she did. But also knew it would be the hardest thing that she ever did.

Leaning in, he kissed her again. This time gently, only pressing his mouth against hers and not going any deeper. Somehow he knew that this was exactly what she needed, to go at her own pace and only move ahead when she was ready. Whenever that would be.

"Goodnight," he whispered against her lips.

"Goodnight…"she murmured back.

And then he was gone. But his warmth stayed with her long after he shut the door.

* * *

**AN: So what did you think? The italicized words came from a website that has eye witness accounts of slavery. This one is from an auction, one of the biggest ones, which happened in 1859 in Savannah Georgia where 429 slaves sold for a little over $300,000. The auction was a product of a family estate dissolving and within that estate was two plantations. The slaves had never been sold before and were supposed to stay together as a family, whether that actually happened or not is beyond me. Elisha and his family were real and this was him trying to get his family to stay together. I,of course, added in my dialogue and the circumstance and moved some of the paragraphs around to fit my story, but everything italicized is straight from the website. It took me a while to find it so I hope you guys appreciate it, lol. Anyways, Liv is learning how to read and they finally kissed. Can things be looking up? Not really, it's slavery, but Fitz and Olivia's feelings will continue to grow. **

**Fun fact: the penny had an eagle on it 1856. **

**P.S: I knew that Olivia's mother was alive from the beginning of the episode. I'm guessing that she found out who Eli/Rowan really was and wanted to leave and take Olivia with her and he wasn't having it. Plus STOP TRYING TO GIVE QUINN HER OWN STORY LINE. I DON'T CARE. Sorry you had to witness that, but she's sooooo stupid. She knew who charlie was and yet she got involved with him anyways. Ugh. Annoying. I'm just happy that Fitz isn't responsible for killing Liv's mom although he did kill 328 other people. Poor Mellie...I knew Big Gerry was a rapists. Anyways...if you have any rants about the show, feel free to tell me in a review, lol**

**P.P.S: Olivia is 18 for the reviewer that asked and Fitz is 19. Also Eli was definitely her father.**


	5. hatua ya kwanza ya uhuru

**Disclaimer: I don't own scandal. **

**AN: I know that I had you guys spoiled with daily updates and I'm sorry for that. Realistically I won't be able to update errday, but I think a few times a week is sufficient. Anyways, enjoy the chapter. **

* * *

That night when Fitz came in, Olivia didn't know what to expect. It had been nearly two weeks since their kiss and he hadn't made a move since. Each time he came in, he let her eat then would go straight to her lessons. When they were done, he would stay a little longer and tell or stories he made up that made her laugh or would read to her from books he had read in school. She would cuddle in close so that she could hear him, or at least that's what she told herself, and would often fall asleep on his shoulder. He was an excellent story teller, reading to her David Copperfield, being very animated in the way he told the story. She would hang on as long as possible, but finally, sleep would catch up to her and she would close her eyes. But every night, he would draw her thin blanket up over her, kiss her cheek, then blow out the lantern and creep back to his room.

But tonight, she didn't want stories, at least not right away. She wanted to feel his kiss again. Wanted him to hold her like he had that night not too long ago. She wanted him to evoke the feelings only he could in her and she knew what he was waiting for. He was waiting for permission. For her to trust him fully, for her to know that he'd never do anything to intentionally hurt her.

"Hi," she said shyly when he came in, thinking her intentions were blatantly obvious.

"Hi," he smiled back. The crooked one that made her heart skip a beat.

"I missed you all day today. I couldn't wait for the sun to go down," he told her coyly.

"I…I missed you, too, Fitz." There. She said it.

For a split second she wished she could take it back. To retreat back into the safe zone that hadn't actually been safe for a while now. It was the first time she intentionally said his name, not taking time to correct herself or say sir right afterward. At this point, it seemed silly.

A full blown grin appeared on his face and she smiled back, feeling free now that she admitted to herself that what she was feeling for him was more than like. She thought about him constantly, anticipated his visits with bated breath and hated when the sun rose signaling the end of their time together. She didn't want to end up like the characters in the play he read to her not too long ago, their love so forbidden that when their plans to run away together didn't work out they ended up killing themselves. But she couldn't help herself from being drawn to him. She wanted to be free to express how she felt in the light, not be forced to be kept secret in the dark. Maybe one day.

"You don't know how great it is to hear you say that," Fitz breathed, going to sit next to her on the cot.

"You don't know how great it is to be able to say it," Olivia replied, reaching for his hand and intertwining her fingers with his.

Even in the semi-darkness she could see the contrast in their skin color. It was crazy to her how only a few shades could determine who got to be deemed a real person and who was cast aside as a category worse than subhuman. She knew that if they were to remove all the outer covering that the inside would be exactly the same but for some reason, some didn't feel that way. She hated it. But with his hand in hers, she could only see their differences as beautiful, as something to keep the world from being monotonous and boring. She just hoped that one day everyone would feel the same.

He looked down at their tangled fingers, seemingly thinking the same thing before lifting them to his lips and kissing them. "I love you, Olivia," he said so low that she could barely hear him. "I think that I have since I was six years old."

Warmth and light filled her even in the cold darkness. She knew that he meant it from the depths of his soul. She knew that his heart was hers just as much as hers was his. She didn't respond back yet, the words dying on the tip of her tongue as the air hit them when she opened her mouth to tell him that she loved him too. She couldn't make herself go there. It took her weeks to say his name. She wasn't ready to address what her loving him meant just yet. When she didn't say it back, she felt guilty, thinking that she hurt his feelings, but he tipped her chin up and with one look let her know that he knew she loved him too.

This time he didn't wait for her to signal her permission, not that he needed to. He would always be welcome. The soft press of his lips took her breath away and she greedily moved closer for more. When his tongue swept in claiming hers, she moaned softly and climbed onto his lap, her fingers in his hair, her lips clinging to his for dear life. Her plate of food sat untouched on the floor, she was hungrier for something way more filling. When she was in his arms, she was free. She wasn't a slave, she wasn't afraid, she wasn't anything but his and she was already addicted to that feeling.

His hands went to her ass, pulling her closer to the apex of his thighs. She opened her legs wider when she felt his desire for her, whimpering when he groaned low in his throat and pushed his hips up into hers. She could feel something within her building as he grinded against her, the seat of her britches clinging to her core with a foreign wetness. She was feeling hot, her nipples zinging every time he brushed against her.

"We should stop," she mumbled halfheartedly, leaning in closer.

"Do you want me to?" he asked but made no attempts to.

She didn't answer him back, knowing that the right answer would be yes but it would be a lie. Instead she opened her mouth wider, kissed him harder, held on tighter. She didn't want the feeling to stop, wanted the sweet ache to keep building until it got to be too much for her body to handle.

When he came in that night, there was electricity in the air. It crackled between them, threatening to ignite. They both felt it. There was no reason for them to deny their attraction anymore, not after admitting their love for each other, Olivia albeit silently. But then she started to get nervous, to panic. Sex was foreign to her, her only experience with it was seeing her mother and the other slave women being raped by a man that was the same color, was the father, of the man that held her so gently in his arms. She started to shake and this time it wasn't in desire.

"Are you ready for your lesson?" He asked, dragging his lips away from hers, instinctively knowing that she wasn't ready.

She was happy that he wasn't going to push her past her set limits, falling even more in love with him for knowing exactly what she needed when she needed it. Then she remembered it was lesson time. A glow of excitement radiated out and she couldn't believe that she almost forgot that she wanted to show off her progress. Kissing him could do that. She climbed off of his lap and went to the loose floorboard to get out her pencil and paper.

She gave him the paper so that he could inspect her work and the smile that came across his face made her full with pride. She had done all the spellings correctly and her handwriting improved greatly. He gave her a new list of words, this time longer than they had ever been before and she looked over them, pronouncing them all correctly with the exception of a few. Some of the words she had never even heard of and when he told her their meaning, she mentally stored them away in her new vocabulary bank that she hoped she'd get to use one day.

"Perfect," he said when she said them all correctly, wrote them down without having to look, and repeated back their meaning. "Ready to finish David Copperfield?"

"Yeah. I want to know what happens to Little Emily," she said excitedly, snuggling into his chest as he opened the book to the last page that he read.

* * *

"Fitzgerald, you have to be tougher with them if they're ever going to take you seriously," Cyrus advised.

They were out in the fields on their horses, watching as the slaves harvested the tobacco. The sun was beaming down and the heat was making some of the workers sluggish. Cyrus had no problem cracking his whip in warning, even hitting a few of them that were moving particularly slow. Fitz on the other hand had done nothing more than to yell at them to speed it up.

"It's hot outside Cyrus and they've been working all day without water. I think it's understandable that they wouldn't be working as fast as normal," Fitz defended.

"That's no excuse. Work still has to get done. You don't want Big Gerry to count today's tally and see that we come up short. It'll be worse for them and worse for me, do you understand?" Cyrus asked.

"It'll be even worse for my father when he has to shell out more money to buy new slaves when his drop dead from exhaustion," Fitz countered.

"You are way too sensitive, Fitzgerald. You have got to start looking at these niggers for what they are. Property. Workers. Not people. The sooner you do, the better we'll all be," Cyrus said, shaking his head.

Fitz wanted to speak against Cyrus, to tell him that he had it backwards, that they were people and not property, but he couldn't. He knew that he would run and tell Big Gerry which would cause more problems. Fitz knew that if his father caught wind of him being against slavery that he'd do something terrible like make Fitz whip a slave while everyone watched or worse would make him hang one. He needed to walk the fine line between being questioning and outright defiance until he could come up with a plan to get him and Olivia to safety.

"Look at this one here," Cyrus said with a harsh tone, "she's barely moving at all. Whip her."

Upon hearing the threat, she started working faster trying to avoid being hit, but it wasn't soon enough. Cyrus demanded he whip her again, Fitz not even touching his whip the first time he made the command. Knowing that if he didn't that Cyrus would do it himself then go and tell Big Gerry, Fitz took the whip from its holster on his hip then cracked it loudly in pretense of hitting her. Somehow the slave girl knew to shout when she heard the sound. Perhaps it was an automatic reaction at hearing the loud boom, like she was already anticipating the pain. Luckily Cyrus seemed to think he actually hit her and trotted off to go and make sure the others were working hard.

Fitz didn't know how long he could get away with pretending but he wouldn't cause another human being pain that didn't deserve it no matter what the circumstances were.

* * *

"Olivia!" Mrs. Grant called loudly from the parlor.

Olivia sighed and put down the broom she had been using. Mrs. Grant had just called her no less than fifteen minutes ago and Olivia couldn't fathom what she wanted again so quickly. Making her way into the parlor, Olivia began to worry. Fitz had left her room almost at sunrise last night. Perhaps Mrs. Grant had heard him creeping up the stairs and figured out where he had been. Or maybe she noticed that food had been missing and since Olivia was the only slave that got to live in the house, thought that Olivia had been stealing it. Even more unsettling, maybe she noticed Olivia mouthing words to herself and how speech began to change slightly, indicating that she was learning to read. As the possibilities ran rampant and she got closer to the parlor, Olivia's hands began to shake in fear.

"Ah, Olivia. Finally. I was beginning to think you didn't hear me," Mrs. Grant said as Olivia came into the room. "I called you to see if you knew what happened to the extra meat that was left over after dinner last night?"

"Uh, I'm not sure," Olivia lied, praying that she didn't know that Fitz had given it her.

"Of course you don't. Big Gerry or Fitzgerald probably got hungry in the middle of the night," Mrs. Grant dismissed.

Olivia didn't know what to make of Mrs. Grant's question, but felt that her secrets were safe. For now. She breathed a slight sigh of relief that she and Fitz hadn't been found out. But they were on thin ice, knowing that at any second, with one look, with one observant person, they'd be found out. She had to figure out a way to get him to stay away from her. Both their lives depended on it.

"I'm only asking because the Dutchmores are going to stop by for a visit today and I don't have time to send that new slave boy, what's his name…Harold…to the butcher and the foxes have gotten nearly all of our chickens," Mrs. Grant explained.

Harrison, Olivia mentally corrected. "I can make something out of what we have," she offered.

"Well of course you will. That's why I called you in here," Mrs. Grant said as if it were obvious. "Oh, and Olivia, make one of those cakes you always make, with the jam in the middle, it's a special occasion. Fitzgerald will be asking for Mellie's hand in marriage today," Mrs. Grant beamed.

"Yes, ma'am," Olivia said then left to go and prepare a meal from scratch on short notice.

As she walked back to the kitchen, Olivia could feel her stomach sink. Fitz was marrying Mellie soon. She knew that this would be a short engagement because both Big Gerry and Mr. Dutchmore were eager to combine their plantations as soon as possible. Fitz would be leaving her behind and there was nothing she could do about it. But she promised herself that when he left, so would she. She was going to run. She figured by the time he moved out of the house that she'd have taught herself to read and write more than enough to get by and she'd have stashed away enough food to make it a few days. Plus she'd have to come up with a good plan and find a way to get her mother to go along with her.

"What's wrong, Olivia?" Greta asked when Olivia entered the kitchen, seeing that something was weighing heavy on Olivia's mind.

"Nothing, Mama," Olivia mumbled, checking the cupboards for anything that could possibly create a half decent meal.

"Don't lie to me. I birthed you. I know when something is wrong," Greta told her, then lowered her tone and asked, "Is it that boy? Did Fitzgerald do something to you?"

"What? No," Olivia replied immediately.

"Oh, you found out that he's gonna ask Ms. Mellie to marry him tonight," Greta assessed, still whispering.

"Yes, but that's not either. I'm not upset Mama, I swear," Olivia lied, casting her eyes down so that her mother couldn't tell that she hadn't been truthful.

Taking her hand, Great led her daughter out of the house through the backdoor and took her to the chicken coop. To the casual observer, they looked to just be collecting eggs for dinner, which they actually were doing, but they also needed to make sure that no one heard the next part of their conversation.

Lifting her daughters chin, Greta shook her head at the sight of her child. "You done and gone fell in love with him, haven't you?"

Olivia didn't deny it, not sure what her feelings were at this point. She felt they might be greater than love, if that was possible. All she knew was that they were strong, dangerous, and foreign. She felt her mother's arms go around her in sympathy, hugging her tight and she could hear her whispering prayers. Praying the lord to take these feelings away from her daughter and that no one would find out.

"I don't know what to do Mama. He's not like the other white men, I swear it. He's so kind to me. He comes at night and brings me food and we talk and he's teaching me how to read," Olivia told her.

"Oh, baby, you have to stop. That boy is gonna break your heart. And if someone finds out you been reading….they gonna kill you. Do you hear me? You need to stop," Greta whispered fiercely.

"I know, but I…I don't think I can," she admitted.

"Well you have to. Fitzgerald is gonna marry Mellie and he's going to leave and forget all about you. You need to stop with these fantasies you've been having. I don't know how many different ways I can tell you. Slaves and whites don't mix," Greta said.

"I can't stay here, Mama. When Fitz leaves, I'm leaving too," Olivia shared.

"What do you mean you're leaving too? If you think he's going to take you with him, you're dreaming. He doesn't care nothing about you," Greta tried to soften the blow as much as possible.

"That's not what I mean. I'm gonna runaw…"Olivia couldn't even get her full sentence out before Greta covered her mouth with her hand.

"Don't ever say that again. Have you forgotten what they did to your father for that same reason? I don't want to see the same thing happen to you," Greta said, tears in her eyes.

"But, Mama," Olivia tried.

"Enough. No, buts. We gotta get back to work," Greta said then left the chicken coop.

* * *

"I don't want to marry Mellie," Fitz said firmly, trying to stand up to his father.

Big Gerry let out a deep laugh, like he just heard the joke of century. Tears of mirth rolled down his cheeks and the fact that he took him for such a joke made Fitz boil with anger. He was sitting across from his father in the study, Big Gerry having just announced that he was to propose to Mellie tonight. He didn't even know Mellie. He had minimal interactions with her, each time it was arranged by their parents. He knew nothing about her except that she was just as vile as her father and was likely looking forward to the marriage for the money alone.

"If you think I'm just going to just say 'okay, you don't have to Mellie if you don't want to', then you're out of your ever loving mind, son," Big Gerry said when he finally composed himself.

"How can you expect me to marry someone that I don't even like, let alone love?" Fitz asked.

"This is not about love, Fitzgerald. This is about business, plain and simple," Big Gerry told him. "Plus, Mellie is a lovely young lady, I'm sure you will grow to feel something for her."

"I have done everything you've asked of me. I've worked the fields with Cyrus, I've gone to auction with him, I've become more involved in the running of the plantation, but I will not marry Mellie," Fitz put his foot down.

"You will marry Mellie and that's the end of that. This is the thing with you Fitzgerald. From the time your mother birthed you, you've been too sensitive. You feel too much, son. You think I don't notice how you act with the niggers? You need to toughen up and be a man. A man has responsibilities to his family and this is one of yours. So you will quit your whining and you will ask Mellie for her hand in marriage and you will do it with a smile on your face, do you understand me?" Big Gerry asked with a deadly tone.

"Or what?" Fitz challenged.

"Or I'll hang your little nigger girlfriend and I'll make you tie the noose," Big Gerry threatened.

Fitz's blood ran cold. No way did he know about Olivia. He had been careful, making sure that no one knew that he was sneaking downstairs at night. How the hell did Big Gerry find out? Instead of fessing up, Fitz decided to play dumb and see how much Big Gerry knew before he incriminated himself. There was a big possibility that he was bluffing.

"What are you talking about?" Fitz asked, his voice a little shakier than he wanted it to be.

"I saw this morning in the fields how you pretended to whip that slave girl when Cyrus told you to," Big Gerry said. "The only reason she's still breathing is because I know that you're not man enough to ever act on your feelings, but I swear if I ever catch you being soft again, I'll tie a dozen of them to the tree and make you whip them until your arm falls off."

Fitz felt relief flood his veins. Big Gerry had no clue about Olivia and he preferred to keep it that way. Maybe he would need to keep his distance from her for a little while to ensure their safety. But he promised her that he'd be there every night and he didn't know how to keep his promise and keep her safe. He had to figure out a way to get them out of here.

"Now you will marry Melllie, do you understand me?" Big asked even though at this point it wasn't really a question.

"Yes, sir," Fitz quipped.

"Good. One day you'll wake up and realize how the world really works," Big Gerry said, shaking his head in disgust at his son. "Now get out of my office."

Fitz wasted no time in doing exactly that. But before he did, he took his grandmother's ring that lay on his father's desk.

* * *

"Ginny, Big Gerry, it's so nice of you to have us over tonight," Mrs. Dutchmore greeted as they entered the house.

"Of course, Ann. Tonight shall be very special, just you want and see," Mrs. Granted hinted.

"I'm sure it will be," Mr. Dutchmore smiled widely, taking off his jacket and handing it to one of the other house slaves.

Mellie trailed behind them, looking radiant in her navy blue dress. Olivia had to admit that she was pretty and let herself imagine just for a second what it would be like if they switched places. If Mellie was the slave and she were the one about to get proposed to. She quickly dismissed that thought, though, trying and not succeeding to harden her heart against Fitz.

"Olivia has prepared a wonderful meal for us tonight," Mrs. Grant announced. "How about we all go into the dining room and eat then gather in the parlor for some dessert and possibly something more," she alluded excitedly.

All throughout dinner, the two older men discussed business, making it obvious that they would be joining forces soon. Olivia briefly wondered why a marriage was needed to merge the two plantations but then just figured it was the way things were done. While Big Gerry and Mr. Dutchmore discussed affairs, Mellie kept trying to spark up conversation with Fitz. She would ask him something inconsequential and he would just nod a yes or a no. Olivia could tell it was making Mellie annoyed and she perversely enjoyed it.

"Olivia, go get dessert set up in the parlor," Mrs. Grant told her.

"Yes ma'am."

Olivia moved from her position on the sidelines to go and do what she was told, a little miffed that she was going to miss how Fitz and Mellie interacted for the rest of dinner. In the kitchen she cut the cake evenly, making painstakingly sure to cut it the way Mrs. Grant liked. She was tempted to spit in the food, had done it before but her mother told her that such an act only proved them to be as low as the white people thought they were. Olivia argued that they deserved it but hadn't done it since.

She made fresh coffee then arranged it all on a nice platter before taking it out. They were already sitting in the parlor chit chatting when she arrived. When they saw her, they stopped temporarily to indulge in the cake and coffee she passed out. Olivia stood by and watched, her hands behind her back and her chin high, waiting to be needed for anything.

"I believe that Fitzgerald has an announcement," Big Gerry cued. "Fitzgerald, go ahead."

Clearing his throat, Fitz got up. He pasted a fake smile on his face and smoothed down his vest as he went to stand by Mellie. Dropping to his knee, he pulled the ring out of his pocket and presented it to her. Olivia's breath caught in her throat, not realizing how hard it was going to be to watch this.

"Mellie, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" he asked with absolutely no emotion, other than maybe disdain, in his voice.

"Of course I will," she said, mustering up tears as fake as his smile.

She stuck her hand out and Fitz pushed the ring on. He kissed her hand before standing up and going back to his seat. All the while Olivia watched, envy brewing to the point she had to turn her head away. She knew that it was fake, that he didn't have feelings for her, hell, she wasn't even supposed to care, but she did.

"Well that settles that. In three weeks' time, Fitzgerald and Mellie will be married and will join our two plantations and families. And one day, my son will take over and take the business even further," Big Gerry said proudly.

"What a happy occasion. Anne and I can't wait to start planning the festivities," Mrs. Grant began and the women in the room started ringing wedding bells.

While everyone became engrossed in their separate conversations, Fitz never took his eyes off of Olivia. She tried not to make contact, knowing how dangerous it would be if someone saw them, but she couldn't help catching her eyes with his once or twice. Each time his relayed how sorry he was and she tried to convey how much he needed to look away. Fitz was becoming reckless, not being as careful as he should be and it was going to get them both in trouble.

* * *

Finally the night wound down and the Dutchmores left. Olivia cleaned up after them, washing dishes and scrubbing floors well into the night. Finally, when her bones were aching and her fingers cramped, she retired back to her bedroom, only having to wait half an hour for midnight. She didn't know what she was going to say to get him to see that they couldn't do this anymore but she had to think of something.

When the door creaked open and the lantern brightened the room, she wasn't worried that it was anyone but Fitz. That was something that troubled her. She didn't want to become comfortable here. She needed to always be on edge, to be on the lookout, to always be able to protect herself at any given moment.

He gave her a weary smile, setting down her plate and lantern before taking a seat next to her on the cot. He breathed in deep, seeming to know they needed to have a serious talk. Neither knew where to begin or how to start, so Olivia went first.

"We have to stop this," she blurted out.

He was quiet for a few long moments before finally responding. "We have to leave," he said solemnly.

"What…what do you mean we have to leave?" Olivia asked, completely caught off guard.

"I mean runaway. I…I'm not willing to lose you and I know that its too dangerous here. We have to go north," he told her, turning to fully face her.

"Really?" She asked, tears forming in her eyes and hope blossoming in her belly as she let the thought sink in.

"I need a few weeks to get together a solid plan of action. I think the best option is for me to marry Mellie," he said as innocently as he could.

"But…why?" Olivia was immediately hurt, thinking he was going to leave her here while went off and married Mellie.

"Because, if I marry Mellie, I can say that we want you as a wedding gift. And from there, I can say that I'm going to market or something and I need to take you with me. No one will look twice at a white man traveling with a slave. By the time everyone figures out what's going on, we'll be long gone. It's the safest way possible," he planned out.

He had been thinking of this for a while now. It was the only way that made sense. If they left in the middle of night together, his father would instantly know what happened and would have people looking for them. Olivia would definitely be killed and Fitz had no doubt that he'd either be put in jail or hung right along with her. They had to be smart about this. It was too risky for her to leave by herself and him join her later, knowing that he'd be a nervous wreck at the thought of her out there alone. And there was no way he could leave first them send for her. They had to do it together. It was the only way.

"You're right," Olivia finally said after thinking it over.

She knew that this way was the safest and knew that Fitz would do anything to keep her out of harm. The only thing was that she didn't know if she could wait that long or how she was supposed to convince her mom to come with her. She couldn't leave her behind and definitely wouldn't leave without her so she had to come up with a way to sell her the idea. She knew it'd be tough, but worth it.

"I can't leave my mom, Fitz," Olivia said softly.

"I know. I was thinking about that. But I don't know how I'll be able to convince my dad to give her to me too or how it'll look for me to be traveling with two women slaves," Fitz said.

"It'll look like you've just come from market," Olivia answered.

"It's not that simple, Olivia. If I look even a little suspicious, they're going to want to see your papers and will see that I didn't just buy you and would wonder why I'm traveling with two women," Fitz informed her.

"But won't you have to sign something when your father transfers ownership to you?" Olivia asked smartly.

"Yes, but that's not the same as bill of sale. It's a tricky thing, Livi, that has to be done just right or else we're all dead," Fitz said.

"I know. I know. It's just...I can't leave Mama here to die…to get raped by your father again," Olivia cried, feeling so lost in what to do.

"I know. I promise you that I won't let that happen. I'll make sure that she gets free to, I promise," Fitz said, hugging her close, hoping that she had enough faith that she believed him.

"Fitz, I think that you should stop coming at night for a few days," she sniffled, drying her tears on her arm.

"Are you sure?" He questioned, knowing that she was right.

"We have to be more careful. No more looks, no more secret meetings for a while, no nothing until we are sure that we can be sure that it's safe," she told him reluctantly, knowing it would break her heart not to see him, not to have him hold her like he was right now.

"If you think that's what's best, then okay," he agreed, knowing that even if they did take a break, it would never be truly safe. "It's going to be hard," he whispered into her hair.

"I know, but we have to."

"One more story?" he asked with a sad smile.

She nodded her head, pulling away but not before sneaking in a kiss. He kissed her long and hard, knowing that it'd be the last one for a while. She kissed him back with the same amount of passion, hating that things had to be this way but accepting the circumstances. Pulling away, she pecked his lips once, twice, three more times then curled into him and listened as he started telling her a story of two people who were in love and ran away together to live in a place where everyone was free.

* * *

**AN: SO what did you think? Who thought that the Big Gerry knew about Olivia for a split second? Scary thought huh? Anyways they making plans to run away, but it's in few weeks times. What will happen before then? Let me know what you think in a review.**

**Fun fact: David Copperfield was written by Charles Dickens and published in 1850.**

**P.S: I can't wait for this week's Scandal. Hot Olitz sex finally. I know one of the reviewers said that they couldn't look forward to it because of how Mellie was raped and the other happenings, but let me tell you, I think its a well needed, well placed reprieve from all the nonsense that's going on. I know for me, I'm just happy that she's not sleeping with Jake. **


	6. ramani

**Disclaimer: I don't own Scandal**

**AN: Hey guys! How's it going? You know, when I read the reviews, you guys really make me smile. The best ones are the people telling me that my writing has moved them so much that you've cried, or that during the day you're thinking about what's going to happen next, or that you're feeling everything the characters are. It's such an honor to know that my writing can evoke such real emotion in people, especially this writing for me is just a hobby. In fact, I'm a pre-med major so this is nothing that I plan to do once I'm out of college. But it feels great when you say you'd buy my books if I were to publish. At least I know I have a plan B, lol. I just want to say thank you. Anyways, enough of my blubbering, here's the next chapter :)**

* * *

It had been a week since Fitz had stopped coming to Olivia at night and she missed him. Every night at midnight she would secretly hope that he'd come to her, would smile his crooked smile in the glow of the lantern and would read a story to her. But night after night, midnight would come and pass and she would be alone, sitting in her room and going over her lessons and eating her food. That was something that didn't change. Every night when she would retire to her room, a plate of food would be hidden under her blanket along with a new list of words for her to go over. She didn't know how or when he would do this, but was grateful that he did.

Mrs. Grant would still ask her odd questions occasionally that made her think that she knew more than what she was letting on. Just the other day she asked Olivia to read off a recipe that she had written and Olivia almost did, so used to reading now that it came second nature to her. But then she quickly remembered that she wasn't supposed to be able to read and told Mrs. Grant as much. The older woman gave her a look that Olivia couldn't quite place but then laughed it off and continued doing what she was doing.

Olivia also noticed that Big Gerry was looking at her more and more often. She would be working and he would walk past giving her lingering looks that made Olivia's skin crawl. Every night she slept with the knife clutched in her hand, barely dozing for fear that he was going to creep in. That's when she missed Fitz the most. He made her feel safe, something that she only felt with him. Just two more weeks and she'd be gone. Just two more weeks. Fourteen days. She just had to survive until then.

She still hadn't figured out how to approach her mother with the news that a plan was in place. Last time she approached the topic she hadn't even been allowed to utter the words run away and now she had to tell her mother that they were leaving in two weeks. That's what scared her the most. Not getting caught, not Big Gerry, not even the threat of losing her life. What scared her most was the possibility that her mother would refuse to go and she'd be forced to leave without her. She didn't think that she live with herself if it came down to that so she had to think of something.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Greta asked as they beat rugs against the house outside to shake the dirt off.

"Mama, I need you to listen to me, and I mean really listen to me, before you cut in," Olivia began hesitantly.

"Olivia, if this is about that nonsense that you were talking the other day in the chicken coop then I don't want to hear it," Greta said in a strict tone.

"It's not nonsense, Mama. It's real and its happening. Sooner than you think. In two weeks, when Fitzgerald marries Mellie, I going with him and then we're heading north. I need you to say that you'll come with us," Olivia told her, her emotions running high.

" And how do you think that's going to work out? Fitzgerald is just going to tell his daddy that he wants to take you and me with him and then we're all going to walk away holding hands while no one blinks an eye?" Greta said sarcastically. "You have more common sense than that, Olivia."

Hearing it like that made Olivia think that the plan wasn't well thought through. But Fitz had promised her that he'd get her out of here and so far he hadn't broken any of his promises. She trusted him with her life. She had faith in him when he said he'd protect her and get them free because he had almost as much to lose as she did if they got caught.

"He said that he'd get us free," Olivia murmured softly, not as confident as she was before.

"That boy ain't gonna free no one but himself. You need to stop all these fantasies, move into the quarters with me and marry you a nice boy," Greta said in a way that let Olivia know she wasn't changing her mind.

"I'm not leaving without you, Mama. But I'm also not gonna spend the rest of my life on this plantation neither. You have two weeks to wrap your head around the idea that we gonna be free and to be ready to go when Fitz takes us," Olivia told her.

"Oh, so now it's Fitz," Greta scoffed with a shake of her head.

"I know you're scared because of what Big Gerry did to Daddy, but Mama, we can't keep living like this. With him rap…he's starting to look at me too. I can't…Mama, we have to leave," Olivia said, tears falling down her cheeks.

"I'll think about it," Greta finally conceded, her voice tight. Olivia could tell that her tears got to her and the idea that of Big Gerry setting his sights on her was something Greta wasn't willing to chance.

"That's all I'm asking you to do right now."

When the rugs were cleaned, they went back into the house to finish their chores, not aware that someone had just heard their entire conversation.

* * *

"Hello Mrs. Grant," Mellie greeted with her signature smile as she stepped into the house.

Mellie had been to the plantation every day for the past week or so to go over wedding plans. She'd arrive around noon and her, her mother, and Ginny would pick flowers, go over the design Mellie wanted for her dress and figure out other little details for the big day that was fast approaching. At the end of the day, she'd stay for dinner and dessert in the parlor and would try to get to know Fitz. He showed absolutely no interest in her, something that Mellie obviously knew, but she talked to him nevertheless. This was a business deal that would increase profits tenfold and she'd be known as the wife of one of the most powerful men in the south. Being in a loveless marriage was a price that she'd have to pay but she hoped that once they were married they could at least give it a real shot. Fitz was a handsome man and she was woman enough admit it.

"Ah, Mellie my dear. How are you today?" Mrs. Grant greeted back, leading her into the parlor where tea and cookies were set up.

"I'm well, thank you. My mother couldn't make it, she had a meeting with the seamstress," Mellie explained as they sat down.

"I completely understand. So have you decided what kind of cake you want Olivia to bake for you?" Mrs. Grant asked.

"Yes, that one with the jam she made on the night Fitzgerald proposed to me. It was a good cake and its almost symbolic, you know. Having the cake we had on the night of our engagement on our wedding day as well," Mellie said.

"I completely agree. I'll make sure that Olivia makes enough to feed all that will be attending the wedding," Mrs. Grant assured her.

"Great. Speaking of Olivia, have you noticed something about her and Fitzgerald?" Mellie hinted.

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Grant questioned, knowing what she was getting at but wanting Mellie to say it.

"All the times I am here, I notice Fitzgerald staring at her and while she tries her hardest not to, I've noticed that she often looks back," Mellie explained innocently.

Mellie was a lot of things but stupid wasn't one of them. From the very first night when Olivia dropped the pitcher of water she knew something was going on with them. While she thought it was disgusting, she wasn't too concerned at that point. After all, it had nothing to do with her. They weren't engaged and she had no claims to Fitzgerald. But now that she was to be his wife, she didn't want him looking at any other women, especially not some nigger girl that wasn't fit enough to like the dirt from her shoes. She needed to make sure that when she and Fitz did get married, he wouldn't cause any problems for her, namely having little half breeds running around and his whore living in their house. She noticed a few times when she came to the house the light skinned children with gray eyes that reminded her of Big Gerry's. Well she wouldn't be embarrassed in that way. Ever. So she figured it would be best to nip this thing in the bud now.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Mrs. Grant feigned ignorance.

She had noticed too. The only reasons she hadn't said anything to Big Gerry yet was because one, Fitz was her son, and two, she didn't have any real proof. Even though she had Greta do the majority of his rearing, her first priority was safety. If she was going to expose her own child to her husband, knowing what kind of man he was, she wanted to be one hundred percent sure that something was going on. Then she'd figure out a way to get rid of Olivia without having her son physically hurt in the process. Plus she knew that if she said something now and something happened to Olivia, Fitz would never go through with the wedding and this was extremely important to two families. She was just biding her time until she could make a solid decision on what course of action she wanted to take.

"Maybe it's just my imagination then. Perhaps my women's intuition is a little off," Mellie dismissed, not liking that she wasn't taken seriously. When she and Fitzgerald were married, she'd make sure that Olivia would never be a problem.

"Perhaps it is. Now, we picked the gardenias and roses for the wedding correct?" Mrs. Grant changed the subject.

"Yes, but I was thinking…"

* * *

Fitz was overseeing the work in the fields on the other side of the plantation far away from Cyrus. He convinced his Dad that he could watch the slaves by himself and while Big Gerry was extremely skeptical, he was also happy that his son was finally taking initiative. Finally he agreed to let Fitz take the northern section of the fields where the faster workers chopped tobacco. They gave the least amount of trouble, often just singing and doing their job as quickly as possible so that they could get their work done without getting bothered by the overseers.

He was pacing back and force on his horse, deep in thought, when he heard someone calling him. He still wasn't used to being called 'master', but he answered to it nonetheless. Looking down he saw that it was the man that they called Harrison. He was the fastest worker that they had and he quickly built a reputation for himself on the plantation. All the overseers knew his name because they would use him as an example for the others on how to get the job done.

"What?" Fitz asked in his harshest tone, trying to appear intimidating and hoping that no one would ever try and call his bluff.

"I want in," was all Harrison said.

"I don't know what you're talking about, boy, but I suggest that you get back to work and fast," Fitz told him, putting his hand to his whip in a threating gesture although he had zero intention of following through.

"I'm talking about you getting Olivia and Greta to freedom. I want to come with you," Harrison said in hushed tones so that the others wouldn't hear them.

Immediately Fitz blanched in fear. If Harrison knew about the plan, who else did? How did he find out in the first place anyways? Fitz thought he was being careful. He had only discussed it once in the privacy of Olivia's room and he knew that no one was listening, especially not Harrison because all the slaves were in the quarters at night. That meant that Olivia must have told her mom who may have told Harrison or that Harrison overheard Olivia and her mother talking at some point. He decided that option two was probably what happened.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Fitz said and grabbed his reigns to turn his horse away.

Before he could, Harrison said, "I wonder what Big Gerry would think of your little plan."

Fitz forced out a laugh, trying to make it look like this was no big deal, that he wasn't worried in the least about Harrison's threat when in fact he was scared shitless. "And who do you think my father would be believe, huh? Me or a stupid slave that doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Are you willing to take that chance? I heard from some of the other's that Big Gerry had a man hung just for thinking of running away. Even if he doesn't believe me right away, he'll be watching you like a hawk from then on and ain't no way you'd be able to leave then," Harrison pointed out.

Harrison was smart, cunning, and had a way with words. Fitz didn't know where he learned this from, perhaps it was just a survival mechanism that some slaves had mastered in order to stay alive. However he learned it, he was right. Even if Big Gerry didn't believe him, he would do something to make sure that Fitz didn't run away with Olivia just in case there was even the slightest bit of truth to Harrison's statement. But Fitz couldn't get Harrison out too. He still didn't know exactly how he'd get Greta free and now he had to worry about someone that was blackmailing him. A risky situation had become practically a death sentence and he had no idea how he was going to keep his promise to Olivia while also keeping from getting caught.

"I'll see what I can do," was all Fitz said before riding off to avoid having to continue the conversation any further.

* * *

That night to keep her mind off of the things that go bump in the night, Olivia took out her paper and pencil and started to draw a map. Of course it was just a bunch of lines and trees and a pond because the only time she had been off of the plantation was when she had to go to another down the road to deliver a message. But she had listened to the songs the others had sang in the field, had fallen asleep to them as her mother sang freedom lullabies to get her to go to sleep. She remembered her dad talking about how the forest would eventually open up to the river and if you followed it, it would lead you to where you wanted to go.

So she put all those things together in what she called a map, not that she planned on ever using it. With Fitz's plan, they wouldn't need it. The task of drawing it though took her mind off of things, made her feel closer to her dad and made this whole thing seem real. Seeing it on concrete, tangible paper gave her a sense that this might actually happen, that she might actually go free one day. She traced her finger along the lines that she had drawn, bringing her finger to the X that marked Canada over and over again. She inhaled deep, perhaps for the first time in her life actually believing that she had a chance, that her and Fitz had a chance. She just needed him to keep to his word and needed her mother to agree to come and everything would be fine. Oh, and she needed to survive these upcoming weeks.

She fell asleep clutching the paper to her chest, dreams of open fields and a little cabin by the river that her and Fitz could raise a family in. A place where she didn't have to constantly look over her should in fear or didn't have to wait for the other shoe to drop and for things to become even more horrible than they already were. One day, it'll be more than just a dream and she'd be so happy when it was.

* * *

"Olivia!" Mrs. Grant called.

Dropping the dough she was kneading, Olivia dusted her flour covered hands on her apron and went to see exactly what it was Mrs. Grant wanted. It had been another couple of days and they all passed without incident. She figured everyone was too busy planning the wedding to be concerned with anything else and she was hoping that the trend would carry on until after the wedding was over and she'd be out of here.

"Yes, ma'am?" Olivia asked when she reached her. She was standing out on the front porch, looking out onto the land and everyone working before turning to face Olivia.

"I need you to go to the store for me and pick up some things for the wedding," Mrs. Grant told her.

Olivia had never been to town before. Mrs. Grant usually left it to someone else, one of the older slaves that she didn't have to worry about them running away. Olivia took this as a good sign. To her, it meant that Mrs. Grant didn't suspect a thing. A part of her felt relieved about that, but there were still those odd questions she kept asking her that made Olivia weary.

"I've never been into town before, ma'am," Olivia reminded her as docile as she could.

"I know that," Mrs. Grant snapped, not liking to be told anything, especially not by a slave. "That's why I drew you a map because lord knows you'd probably forget the directions I gave you."

Pulling the folded piece of paper from the pocket on her dress, Mrs. Grant handed it to Olivia. Olivia unfolded it and on the paper was just a squiggly line with a few landmarks that she'd be able to recognize along the way. Olivia found it odd that Mrs. Grant took the time to actually draw the map instead of just telling Olivia the four or five landmarks to look out for. But then again, she was known to write everything down, often making lists to remind herself of tasks that she wanted someone else to complete for her. Olivia just figured this was part of her quirk.

"Oh, I forgot the money and your tag. I'm going to go get them and I'll be right back," Mrs. Grant told her.

Olivia nodded her head, showing that she had heard her, then put the map in her apron pocket. When she did, she felt another piece of folded up paper. Her map. Too afraid to leave it lying around or even in her safe spot underneath the floorboards and also wanting to show it to Greta, she kept it with her. She made sure to periodically feel for it throughout the day to make sure that it hadn't fallen out. Going into the kitchen, she quickly cleaned up what she was doing previously, knowing that if Mrs. Grant or Big Gerry were to walk into the kitchen when it was messy, no matter that she had to leave to go to town, she'd be in trouble. When she was done, she pulled her apron off and was about to put it on the hook when she heard someone come in behind her. Instinctively knowing that it was Big Gerry, her suddenly nerveless fingers dropped the apron.

"You sure are a clutz," Big Gerry said in a voice that made Olivia tremble.

"I'm sorry, Master," Olivia replied hastily even though she hadn't exactly done anything worth apologizing for.

She was about to bend and pick it up when Big Gerry came forward and did it for her, standing extremely too close to her. She could smell him, a mixture of tobacco, alcohol, and a stench that was so uniquely him it made her want to vomit. He smiled at her and reached for her hand, Olivia's body in full blown convulsions at this time, terrified of what his was about to do to her, when something caught his eye. He looked down at a single folded slip of paper that had fell out of the apron then looked back at Olivia before swiftly swooping to pick it up. Upon looking at the contents of the paper, he clutched Olivia by the forearm, hard enough to almost snap her bone, and dragged her out of the kitchen, through the house and out to the front yard, Olivia screaming and pleading the whole time.

* * *

Fitz was overseeing in the fields close to the house when he heard screaming. He couldn't quite see who it was due to distance, could just barely make out two figures, the much larger white one dragging the much smaller black one in the direction of the whipping post. A chill ran up his spine and he instantly recognized the voice. Olivia. He could hear Big Gerry yelling at her to shut up before he cut her tongue out her mouth, but Olivia kept on, probably too afraid to do anything else. Kicking his horse in the side, he rode off as fast as he possibly could to where his father was taking Olivia.

He barely waited for his horse to stop before he jumped off. By the time he got there, Big Gerry was tying Olivia to the post, her back towards him and her face smashed into the wood. When he had her tied up, he ripped the back of her dress, exposing her bare skin to everyone that was gathered around.

"What are you doing?" Fitz spoke up angrily, making a move to go and stand between Olivia and Big Gerry.

"This nigger here is just like her daddy, thinking she can run away. Well Imma show her what I do to slaves who think they can run away," Big Gerry said, taking his whip off his belt and unraveling it.

"The map… it isn't mine. Mrs. Grant drew it…please, you have to believe me," Olivia wailed from her spot on the post, trying to save herself.

"You expect me to believe that my wife drew you a map to the most known hideaway for runaway slaves? You're so stupid that you didn't even know that the slave catchers already done found out about that place and are just waiting for niggers to come by," Big Gerry yelled menancingly

Fitz's blood ran cold. His mom had given Olivia a map that was intentionally made for her to get caught by the slave catchers. There was only one reason why his mother would even do this and it was because she knew something was up. How she knew was beyond him. Maybe he had been too obvious in the way he stared at Olivia or maybe it was mother's intuition, he didn't know.

"I should've let you run off and let them catch you, but sometimes niggers get away and I couldn't have that know could I? Plus I figured I could use this as hands on experience for my boy. Fitzgerald," Big Gerry addressed, "you whip her."

There was no way in hell he was going to whip Olivia. When she heard that Fitz was going to do it, she went completely silent, not believing what was about to happen. But Fitz would kill his father before he even raised a hand to Olivia.

"If she says that mom drew the map, then she has to be telling the truth," Fitz said, standing firmly between Big Gerry and Olivia.

"This is no time for you to whine and moan like a bitch, Fitzgerald. I gave you an order and you're going to do it," Big Gerry spat, getting increasingly angry.

"No."

"What did you say to me?" Big Gerry asked rhetorically, not believing that his son had the gall to stand up to him

"I said no. And I'm not going to let you whip her for something that she didn't do," Fitz said firmly, not moving his ground.

Big Gerry laughed loudly. By this time a crowd had gathered around and it was growing. Word spread fast that Greta's daughter was on the whipping post and a cracker was standing up for her. Everyone wanted to see. By the time word reached Greta, the battle lines between Fitz and Big Gerry had already been drawn, but when she saw her baby tied to the post, she rushed towards her.

"Let me take her place, Master, please. She only a child, she don't know any better. Please let me take her place," Greta pleaded, throwing herself at Big Gerry's feet and begging him to let her take her child's place.

"Mama, no!" Olivia cried, knowing that the begging was in vain and that it would only get them both whipped.

"NO! She has to learn her lesson, now get up, you look pathetic," Big Gerry commanded harshly.

Greta didn't move, only continued to plead for him not to whip her. Big Gerry slapped her across the face so hard that the wind was knocked out of Greta and she fell backwards to the hard ground. But she was resilient, clutching her cheek and still crying and begging him not hurt her baby.

Big Gerry took a deep breath then pulled a revolver out of his the waistband and stalked towards Olivia, the gun pointed in the direction of her head. Fitz tried to stave his father off but Big Gerry was bigger and stronger and simply pushed Fitz to the ground. Big Gerry cocked the gun and pushed it crudely against Olivia's temple causing her to cry out in pain. With his other hand, he threw Fitz the whip.

"Do it or I swear to God I'll blow her fucking brains out right now," Big Gerry threatened, his finger on the trigger.

Fitz looked down at the whip and back at Olivia. Then he looked to the house and saw his mother staring out the window, watching what was going on and knew that she wasn't going to help. There was only one option. Standing, he reached down and grabbed the whip. Big Gerry smiled cruelly and stepped away from Olivia so he wouldn't get hit. Fitz had it poised in his hand and ready to strike when he heard the front door slam against the house. He was two seconds from using the whip on Big Gerry, not exactly sure how he or Olivia would make it out alive, only knowing that it was the only thing he could do.

"What is going on out here?" Mrs. Grant asked, storming to where her son stood.

When she heard her voice, Olivia started screaming again. Begging Mrs. Grant to tell Big Gerry that she drew the map, that she wasn't going to run away, but she stopped when she felt the metal of the gun dig into the back of her head, silently weeping and praying to God that she didn't die today.

"This nigger was trying to run away. I have to show her what I do to slaves that runaway because apparently watching her daddy hang wasn't lesson enough," Big Gerry sneered.

"Let me see the map, Gerry," Ginny said calmly, holding out her hand.

Taking it out his pocket, he stepped away from Olivia and shoved the crumpled piece of paper into her hands. Unwrinkling it, she looked at the paper for a few seconds before she said, "I drew this map for her."

Dumbfounded, Big Gerry stared at his wife blankly. "And why exactly would you draw her a map, Ginny?" Big Gerry asked, the gun now being pointed in a different direction.

"I needed her to go into to town for me to pick things up for the wedding," Mrs. Grant answered, pushing the gun away from her head.

"This isn't the way to town Ginny and you know it," Big Gerry accused.

"Yes it is," Ginny defended, then interpreted the map in a completely different way. In a way that Big Gerry couldn't argue with. "Now untie Olivia so she can get back to work," Mrs. Grant demanded.

Fitz knew that his mother had set Olivia up. He knew that she knew damn well where that map led and what would've happened to Olivia once she got there. The only thing that he didn't know was why she decided to intervene if she wanted Olivia gone so bad. Maybe from her spot in the window she could see that Fitz had turned his body ever so slightly to face his father with the whip. Maybe she knew that if Fitz had struck his father that he would be dead within five seconds because the other overseers would've pulled their weapons and shot without questions. Or maybe she knew that Big Gerry wouldn't have stopped at whipping Olivia and would've made Fitz do something else. Either way, she knew that by hurting Olivia this way, a chain of events would have been set off that wouldn't have been good for anyone.

Big Gerry moved to untie Olivia, but Fitz was faster. He went around to the front of the post where her hands were bound and carefully undid the knots, trying his hardest not to cause her any further pain. Her wrists were bloody from how tight they were tied and Fitz could see a hand shaped bruise on her arm that made him so angry he gave serious thought to killing his father right then.

When she was loose, she nearly collapsed the ground but held strong. She turned and walked back towards the house, Greta intercepting her about half way there to gather her in her arms. Tears were streaming down both their faces but the only thing that was on Olivia's mind was getting her map from the apron and getting out of here. Even if she had to go by herself.

* * *

That night Olivia was gathering what little food she had, mainly bits of fruit and a little bit of meat from the dinners Fitz would leave her, and was throwing it all into a makeshift knapsack she had tied together from ripping off a piece of her blanket. She didn't know where she was going, how she was going to get there, or what she was going to do when she got there, but she had to leave tonight.

She was just about to creep out when the door opened. She hastily went to grab her knife when she heard Fitz announce himself. Dropping it, she flew at him, pounding her fist against his chest in pent up anger. She wasn't mad at him, but at Big Gerry, at his mother, at the situation, and she had to let it out. He just stood there and took it, knowing that it was something that she needed to get out. When her anger evaporated and turned to sadness, tears spilling rapidly down her cheeks, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

"Sssshhhh…I got you..ssshhhh," he tried to console.

"I can't do this anymore Fitz," she sobbed in a way that ripped at his heart. "I have to get out of here or I'm going to be dead within the next few days," she told him, looking at him through watery eyes.

"Livi…"

"NO. We have to go tonight. Either you can come with me or I can go by myself," she told him, trying to brush past him to get to the door.

"Olivia, if you leave tonight, you won't step foot off the property before they catch you. My father and his men are out there right now patrolling the perimeters. They know that something is up and they're just waiting for you to come out," Fitz warned.

Olivia collapsed to the cot, so frustrated that all she could do was cry. But then a thought hit her. "Fitz, you can't be here. I think your mother knows and if they catch you…"

His mouth swooped in and silenced hers. He kissed her until she was breathless, until she couldn't even remember her name let alone why he shouldn't be in her room right now. "I'm not going to leave you alone tonight. If something were to happen to you…" he stopped, the idea to painful to even say out loud. "I need to protect you, even if I lose my life in the process. I won't let them hurt you, I promise. I love you."

"I…I love you, too," she admitted quietly.

She didn't want to think about what happened today, what could happen tomorrow, or what would've happened had Fitz not been there. She didn't want to think about anything and the only way she knew how to make that happen was to lose herself in him. So she did, mashing her mouth to his with a hunger that she hadn't before. And he kissed her back just as intensely, moving on top of her, bracing his weight on his forearms.

She moaned and opened her legs so that he could rest between her thighs and hooked her feet around his ankles. His hand went to lower back, arching her closer to him. She wrapped her hands around his neck to anchor herself closer, not that it was even humanly possible, but somehow she managed to squeeze the last bit of air between them and press fully into in.

"Livi, I don't think…" Fitz began, starting to pull away.

She grabbed his face and brought his lips back to hers, kissing the protest right off his tongue. She needed him tonight and wasn't going to be denied. He kissed her back for long moments before pulling away again, using all of his strength to break free from her hold.

"I think you should get some rest. I won't leave you tonight," he promised, attempting to move off of her.

She wasn't having it.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and held him to her. She brought her lips to his neck, sucking the skin there but stopping before she could leave a mark. She rubbed herself against his stiff length harder, whimpering and scraping her teeth against his pulse point. He groaned low in his throat and she knew that he wasn't going to stop again.

"I need you," she whispered into his ear before biting the lobe.

He looked down at her and saw the truth in her statement, the want in her eyes, and leaned up off of her. In one swift move, her dress over her head and on the ground. She only had on her underwear when she moved her fingers to the buttons on his shirt. She ran her hands across his strong shoulders and pushed the shirt off his body, taking off the undershirt next. Fitz toed off his shoes, the slight thud signaling they made it safely to the floor. His pants went next and then he was in the same state of undress as her. He stared down at her in awe. He ran a fingertip across her stiff nipple and she gasped, not expecting the jolt of pleasure she would feel from the act. He did it again, tentatively exploring her flesh to see what made her breath hitch. She was moaning and pressing further into his palms, wanting him to never stop. Any little sound she made, any little move, Fitz was acutely aware, watching her hard to make sure that this was good for her.

She could feel his length against her core and it was driving her crazy. When he dipped his head and took her nipple in his mouth, she had to shove her fist into her mouth to keep from crying out. He bit down gently on the straining peak and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She clutched his head to her chest, not wanting him to stop even as she ground herself into his hips, not knowing why, just knowing that it felt so good.

"Fitz…"

He could feel her shudder and shake beneath him and then her body went stiff and the front of his briefs were soaked with evidence of her climax. He groaned and dropped his head to her neck, stopping before he could follow her into bliss. When she calmed, he bent and slid her panties off, biting the inside of his lip at the sight of her completely naked body. She sat up some and moved her hands the band of his underpants, pushing them down his hips, not being able to keep herself from staring at his manhood that bobbed free.

Nervousness hit her when she felt him rest between her splayed thighs. She could feel him hot and heavy pressing against her entrance, begging to be let in. She wanted him to be inside her just as much as he wanted to be there. She opened her legs wider and closed her eyes, preparing herself for what was to come next. She felt him gently cup her cheeks in his hands and she knew that he wanted her to open her eyes. She did, staring at him, her heart pounding faster when she saw silent declaration in his eyes. He loved her. Then he began to sink in, slowly, ever so slowly, to make sure he caused her as little pain as possible. His eyes crossed, the descent feeling better than anything he could've ever imagined. When he felt that thin piece of tissue protecting her purity, he stopped and looked to her for permission. She nodded her head, biting her lip at the feel of him stretching her.

He reared back and pushed forward with enough force to break through, officially taking her virginity as she took his in return.

She yelped in pain and he stopped immediately. He moved to pull out but she stopped him, cinching her legs tighter around his waist. He waited for her to adjust to having him inside of her, nearly losing his mind as she involuntarily clenched around him. He held as still as he possibly could for several long moments, but then he felt her flex her hips his. She was moving against him, the once painful throbbing turning into something completely different. Taking notice, he moved with her. It took a few tries, them both clumsy and uncoordinated, but soon they were moving in perfect sync.

She was whimpering, completely oblivious to anything but Fitz. She felt his soft lips press gently to the circle shaped bruise on her temple and tears gathered as she briefly thought about how she got that bruise. He lifted her arm and kissed away the pain of the hand shaped mark that was colored on her skin and the now scabbed scrapes on her wrists. He was so gentle, so loving, that it took her breath away.

He gritted his teeth, trying to hold off his own orgasm until she reached hers. He wouldn't have to wait long. She was writhing beneath him, her toes curling as he repeatedly pushed into her. The kiss to her lips was her undoing and she shattered beneath him, her back bowing and her nails digging into his shoulder. Feeling her clutch him so tightly, he let go as well, murmuring how much he loved her over and over as they both experienced other worldly ecstasy.

Rolling over, he dragged her with him and with her head on his chest, his arms wrapped around her, they fell into a peaceful sleep.

Not even an hour later, the door slammed open with a bang, Big Gerry nearly ripping it off its hinges. "GET UP!"

* * *

**AN: So this story is not going in the direction that I had originally intended, but I like this way better. Sometimes the characters just take over. I was debating on when they would have sex, whether it was going to be before, after, or during them running away. Then Vermont happened and got me all in my feelings, lol. Plus I decided they needed a minute of happiness before shit hits the fan. Anyways, tell me what you thought in a review below, as you can tell by my first AN, I really appreciate them. **

**Fun Fact: The word fuck was first said around 1457, possibly earlier and is thought to come from a German word meaning rubbing against or sex. However, some believe it comes from the Latin word, futuere, which is said to mean the exact same think as fuck does. But the word people can't decide where it came from so the still have yet to declare it's origin. Why would I look this up you may ask? I wanted to be certain that when Big Gerry was holding the gun to Olivia's head, his word choice was correct. **

**P.S: How great was last episode. *sigh* Although it would've been better had she said she loved him too, she said don't sell the house (not yet) which is basically the equivalent. Curious to see how she deals with her mother being alive and am hoping that Huck makes it so that Quinn won't be a problem. **


	7. muda wa kukimbia

**Disclaimer: I don't own Scandal**

**AN: Sooooooooo...how's it been going? I know, cruel of me to leave a cliffhanger like that and the take a week to update, but in my defense, it was Thanksgiving and I was spending quality with the fam. Plus finals (ew) are coming up so you know how that goes. But with finals comes winter break and that means lots of time to write. Anyways, here's the next chapter. Happy reading ;)**

* * *

Those two words caused Olivia's heart to literally stop beating in her chest. Fear seized her vocal chords and she was too shocked to even scream. They were caught. There was no way in hell that Big Gerry was going to believe any lie either of them could come up with. There was no point in even trying at this point for it was obvious what had just happened. There was no surprise on Gerry's face; he completely expected to find his son in this exact predicament. Fitz was doing his best to cover her from his father as she clutched the thin blanket closer to her chest, hiding her face in his bare shoulder. She was trembling behind him, completely afraid, knowing that there was no way she was going to survive this.

"I love you," she whispered so low so that only he could hear.

She wanted those to be her last words. These last few weeks-almost a month- with him were the best in her life and she wouldn't trade them for anything. If this was going to be how she met her maker, because she experienced unconditional love at the hands of someone that was so kind, so uncaring of their differences, then so be it. She was ready. She said a quick prayer, closing her eyes and mumbling the words into his skin as he spread his arms out in a protective manner, seemingly refusing to move and let Big Gerry get to her.

"Dad.." Fitz began, not knowing exactly to say at a time like this.

"Shut up you nigger loving disgrace. I always knew you were weak and worthless, but this…you disgust me," Big Gerry spat, the venom in his tone enough to kill someone if they got too close.

Going closer to them, Gerry bent and picked up Fitz's clothes and threw them out of the room. They waited with stilled breath for his next move but they didn't have to wait long. Big Gerry went to the cot and grabbed Fitz' s arm so hard that it tore out of the socket. The pop could be heard but Fitz didn't cry out in pain. He held firm, still trying to protect Olivia with his other arm even as Big Gerry proceeded to pull him from the bed. Fitz fought with everything in him, kicking and punching, even landing a few blows, but with his bad arm still in Big Gerry's grip and his father capturing the other limb, Fitz was ultimately subdued. Big Gerry pulled a naked Fitz from the cot, his body slamming hard onto the wood below.

Olivia searched frantically for the knife that she always kept nearby, looking for it but coming up empty. She had no idea where it went, not having any clue that it had slipped between the wall and the cot during her and Fitz's love making. She was unarmed and defenseless to do anything but watch was Big Gerry dragged his son as roughly as he could out of the room. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Big Gerry landed a hard kick to Fitz's ribs subsequently cracking three of them. Fitz coughed up blood but proceeded to try and get up on his hands knees, determined to get to Olivia even if he had to crawl. Big Gerry kicked him again, the tip of his boot digging into his side.

"When I'm done with her, I'll come back for you. And since you love niggers so much, I'll make sure that you hang like one," Big Gerry promised before kicking Fitz again, this time in the kidneys and almost knocking Fitz out cold from the sheer pain.

Turning to her, the look in his eyes was one of pure evil and Olivia knew that before she died tonight he was going to torture her. She scooted to the very corner of the wall, trying to put as much space between them as possible as he advanced into the room, coming to her with sure and determined steps. She knew that what was about to happen was going to be nowhere near as beautiful as what happened between her and Fitz just an hour earlier. Big Gerry didn't even close the door, intending for Fitz to watch helplessly as he raped her. Well she was going to go out fighting.

As soon as a knee was on the cot, she was on him. She punched, kicked, and bit. She didn't scream though, afraid that if she woke Mrs. Grant that she'd call the other overseers that were out patrolling the land. She did anything she possibly could, even tried to gauge out his eyes and claw at his face. She could tell that he wasn't expecting her fury because it took a few moments for him to start fighting back. But when he did, he went for her arms, trying to pin them down, but she kept kicking, kept fighting. She landed a good kick to his groin and he winced in pain, but didn't stop.

"I like when they fight, it's no fun when you just lie there and take it," he sneered. "Your mama fought just like you are right now. It took a few times to break her, but I finally did," Big Gerry bragged.

At hearing him taunting her with her mother, a new wave of anger hit Olivia and she moved her body in whatever way she thought would physically hurt him. She reared up and bit him hard on the shoulder and while he stopped for a second, he seemed all the more determined to get to her. Even with all her fighting he got her pinned, his legs pressed against her knees so that she was spread for him. He had both of her hands pinned above her head, his grip way too tight to break. She tried not to cry, not to show weakness, but the tears started falling as she bucked against him, still trying to break free. He made grunting noises as he grasped both of her hands in one of his so that he could reach down to unbutton his pants. Not wanting to see, Olivia turned her head to the side facing the wall, knowing that if she saw Fitz, she would lose it. She could still hear him though, moaning in pain and she could hear the wood of the floor creak as he tried his hardest to get to her. With her head facing the wall, she saw a glint catching the glow of the lantern. The knife.

"I promise that this is going to hurt, but you'll like it," Big Gerry told her, preparing to enter.

Olivia looked at him and spit right in his face. Angry and disoriented, Big Gerry let go of her hands for a moment to wipe her spit from his face and with her hands free, Olivia reached for the knife. Without taking a moment to think, she reared her arm back and jabbed him, not even caring where it landed. She felt the flesh of his side give way and the blade sank in deep. With a bit of effort, she pulled it free and jabbed him again and again until he finally fell off and to the floor, clutching is bleeding side in pain. Immediately, Olivia got up, slammed her foot onto the side of Big Gerry's head knocking him out, and ran to Fitz who had managed to drag himself the threshold of the room.

"Fitz, it's going to be alright. You have to get up, okay? We have to go," Olivia told him, trying to nudge him up.

Gathering all the strength he possibly could, Fitz got up on his hands and knees and with assistance from Olivia, he slowly rose to his feet. His arm was useless and his ribs prevented him from breathing normally. His face was grimaced in pain, his lips mashed together to prevent a wail from bubbling loose. Olivia knew that in this state they wouldn't make it far.

"We have to pop your arm back into place," Olivia told Fitz as quietly as she could.

Fitz's eyes got wide with terror, but he just nodded his head and turned his arm towards her, his head facing the other way. Olivia had never done this before but had seen it done a few times with the other slaves that would get beat up by the hands of Cyrus of Big Gerry and would need this kind of thing done when they were finally finished getting punished. She knew that they had to do this quick because she didn't know how long Big Gerry would be down for and he was sure to cause a ruckus when he woke up.

She counted to three then popped his arm back into the socket and had Fitz's fist not been stuffed in his mouth, he would've screamed. He had tears in his eyes and for a second, she was afraid that he was going to pass out. But he remained on his feet and he flexed and rotated his arm just a little to confirm that he still had some range of motion. Grabbing his clothes, Olivia helped him put on his shirt and pants before going back to pull her dress over her head, hitting Big Gerry again to make sure he stayed out. She grabbed the knife, cutting two long strips from her blanket for Fitz and was just about to fashion him a sling and rib wrap when she heard the creak of the steps. Mrs. Grant was up.

"Fitz we have to go now," she told him quietly.

"There's no way we'll make it off the property alive with the overseers out there," Fitz responded even as his mind formulated a plan.

"We have to try because if we stay here, we'll die," Olivia said truthfully.

"Olivia, I need you to go to the quarters and hide and if I'm not there in fifteen minutes to go without me," he told her, peering around the corner and straining his ears to try and hear where his mother was.

"I'm not leaving you," Olivia said defiantly, tears forming in her eyes.

"Livi, I need you to go now. We don't have much time. I'll do my best to come to you, but don't wait for me past fifteen minutes. You and Greta run to freedom and take Harrison with you. He'll protect you," Fitz said solemnly, almost like a goodbye.

"Fitz…"

He kissed her quickly, pouring all of his emotions into it then released her. "Go."

He could tell that she didn't want to, but she did anyways, slipping out of the backdoor and running as fast as she could to the quarters. Fitz watched her for a moment, praying that she made it safely as she disappeared into the night. He moved swiftly to Big Gerry's motionless body, he took the pistol off his hip, thankful that he hadn't thought to use it in his attack on them. Fitz opened the chamber and saw that it was fully loaded. Good.

As he turned, he saw that his mother was standing in the doorway watching him. Fitz nearly dropped the gun in surprise but held fast to it, knowing that it was his life line. They stared at each other for tense seconds but Fitz moved first, covering her mouth with his good arm and going behind her so that with his grip on her, he could drag her to the next room. She fought a little, but stilled when raised the pistol to her head. This action caused him great pain but he did his best not to show any weakness that she might be able to exploit. He dragged her to the kitchen and threw her into the pantry, shutting and locking it from the outside. For good measure, he took a chair and propped it against the knob so that she couldn't get out. She banged and yelled but it was all in vain. Fitz quickly left the house, but didn't head towards the quarters to get Olivia. No, he had to take out the overseers first.

* * *

Olivia ran as fast as she could, pausing occasionally to hid behind a bush or a tree to make sure that she was safe before heading on. She did her best not to step on branches or rustle leaves, hoping that she made as little noise as humanly possible. Her senses were hyperactive and any little sound scared her whether it be from the wind or a squirrel. Finally the cabins were in sight and she sprinted to them, thankful that no one saw her. She went straight to her mother's, her chest heaving as she tried to pull oxygen into her lungs and slow her fast beating heart. Her foot hurt and she looked down to see that she had stepped on a thorn, the adrenaline pumping through her system preventing her from feeling the sting of it until now. She pulled it out and then went up and down the rows of sleeping slaves until she reached her mother.

Shaking her awake, Greta startled a bit until her eyes adjusted to the dark and she realized that it was her daughter. "Olivia, what in the world is you doing in here?" Greta asked, concern lacing her words as she sat up.

"Mama we have to go tonight," Olivia rushed out, still trying to catch her breath, the two strips of cloth still clutched in her fist.

"Olivia, what are you talking about? I thought I told you that to get those thoughts out of your head," Greta whispered fiercely, the others starting to stir.

"Big Gerry caught us," was all Olivia managed to get out, still traumatized from what happened.

"Big Gerry caught…?" Greta paused in confusion. Then recognition dawned on her face. "Where is he now?"

"Passed out in my room," Olivia answered.

Greta looked to be torn between two options. Stay or run. But she could see the terror in her daughter's eyes and her decision was made for her. It was time to run. By now, some of the other slaves were awake and had heard what Olivia said. They were looking at the mother and daughter pair like they were crazy. They knew that Big Gerry's men were out patrolling and knew that there was no way anyone was going to make it out alive.

"Let's go then," Greta finally said, rising to her feet.

"We have to wait for Fitz," Olivia informed her, peeking out of the door hoping to see his figure coming towards them.

"Are you crazy girl? We have to go now. That boy ain't coming for you," Greta scolded her daughter.

"I promised that I would wait fifteen minutes for him and that's what I'm going to do." Doing a quick estimate in her head, she decided that it had already been about seven minutes.

"It's his fault we're in this mess now," Greta hissed. "He should've just left you be and you should've never have gave into him."

"I love him, Mama," Olivia defended, hoping that he would be there soon.

"Foolish is what you are. If we's gonna run, we gotta do it now and leave that boy to fend for hisself. There ain't no way two slaves and a white boy are going to make it to freedom." She was going to drag Olivia out of here herself if she had to.

"Ten more minutes, Mama, then we'll go," Olivia pleaded.

"Olivia…"but Greta couldn't get the rest of her sentence out as a shot rang through the air.

"Fitz…"

* * *

Fitz crept up on Cyrus as silently as possible, limiting his breathing to one shallow breath every thirty seconds knowing that his injury was causing him to wheeze. The older man was facing the other direction on his horse, completely unaware that he was being watched. No one would ever make the mistake of calling Fitz a good shot. His father had tried to teach him a number of times to no avail. But his life and Olivia's life counted on him hitting Cyrus with deadly aim and so that was what he was going to do. He got as close as he could without being detected, standing about ten feet away before Cyrus finally turned towards him. Before he could even draw his weapon, Fitz shot his. For a second he thought that he missed, but then a red stain appeared on Cyrus white shirt and he fell backwards off his horse, his body landing with a hard thud to the ground. Knowing that the other overseers, two in total, would hear the shot and come rushing to see what happened, Fitz hid behind a tree and waited.

He heard the _clop clop clop _of a horse's hooves and readied himself for what was about to happen next. One of the overseers appeared on his horse, looking around in confusion until he spotted Cyrus's lifeless body on the ground. He dismounted from his animal and went over to Cyrus, crouching down to examine what happened to him. Fitz took that as his opportunity and ran up and shot the man point blank in the head, his victim not even seeing him coming. Two down, one more to go. He just prayed that Olivia was still waiting for him.

* * *

As the second shot rang out, Olivia was a little more confident that Fitz was still alive. The others had heard too and by this point, everyone was awake, waiting and listening for the next move. Harrison had made his way over to them, not saying a word but keeping close, prepared to run when they gave the word. Olivia really did not want him coming with them, knowing that too many people would only hinder their chances of getting out alive, but at this point, there was nothing she could do.

"It's been fifteen minutes, we have to go now," Greta told Olivia.

"Do you really want to leave when there's gunfire," Olivia hissed, getting upset with her mother.

"Yes, it means they're distracted," Greta reasoned.

"I'm not leaving Fitz. Just as I wouldn't leave you, I'm not leaving him," Olivia said firmly.

Her heart was beating wildly in her chest, terrified that one of the shots she heard had hit him, had hit the man she loved. But she kept faith, begging God to keep him alive and to bring him to the quarters soon so that they could go. She got to her knees, laying down the strips of her blanket that she had cut for Fitz beside her, kneeling and clasping her hands, praying harder than she ever had before. She could feel her mother next to her doing the same thing and when she looked up, she could see that all of the slaves were kneeling and praying to God that they all made it through the night.

* * *

Finally the other overseer came and just as the other had, when he saw the dead bodies he dismounted his horse and walked towards them. But instead of stopping to inspect them closer, he raised his head and looked for the assailant that had gunned down his friends. From his position behind the tree, Fitz fired a shot, hoping that he hit him. Peeking his head out, he saw that he didn't and instead had given away his location. The overseer stalked towards Fitz, his gun drawn. He pulled the trigger and luckily the bullet missed, sailing past the tree and into the grass. But he didn't stop coming and didn't stop shooting. Fitz hid behind the tree, feeling the trunk shake from a bullet lodging into it. The shots didn't stop coming and the other man was getting closer and closer. Fitz stuck his arm out and shot again before retreating, trying to save his ammo. He could hear the click of an empty chamber and took his opportunity to ambush the other man. But he was closer than Fitz expected and as soon as Fitz emerged from behind the tree, the butt of the gun was jammed into the side of his head.

Fitz fell to the ground and the other man got on top of him, punching him in the face and trying to disarm him. Fitz held strong to the gun though, struggling to regain the upper hand. The overseer grabbed Fitz's arm, the one that was holding the gun, and forced it inward so that he opening of the weapon was facing Fitz. They continued the struggle, the gun changing positions several times before the trigger was accidentally pulled sealing both of their fates.

* * *

The loud bangs from the shots kept going and the idea that Fitz was alive was getting slimmer and slimmer. She was waiting for him to come through the door when she looked over at her mother. Greta nodded her head to Harrison and the next thing that Olivia knew she was lifted up and slung over his shoulder. She squirmed and squealed trying to get down as he carried her to the door with Greta on their heels.

"This is for your own good, Olivia," Harrison spoke, trudging forward despite the numerous blows to his back.

"Put her down," a voice with a deadly tone cut through the air.

"Fitz," Olivia rejoiced, so happy that he was okay.

Immediately she was on her feet and in his arms. She hugged him tight, not caring what the others thought about the display, just happy that he was alright. He held her as best as he could, his arm and ribs aching from the fights. She could hear him groan as she clutched him tighter then remembered that he was injured. Releasing him, she went over and got the strips of fabric that she had cut and brought them over to him. She had him take off his shirt, cringing at the bruises that were just starting to surface, tied up his torso as tight as she could without causing him extra pain then fashioned a sling for his arm.

"We have to go now before my dad wakes up," Fitz said through gritted teeth.

"What about the overseers?" Olivia asked, already having an idea as to what happened.

"They're dead," he said simply.

Upon hearing that, the other slaves started to chatter amongst themselves, trying to decide if they were going to run or stay. Almost all of them decided to stay, too afraid –too programmed for fear- of the repercussions if they were to get caught. Only one stepped forward, Elisha, giving Fitz an appreciative nod before going out into the night. They knew that he was going to and try his family and silently wished him luck on his journey.

Looking to her mother, Olivia nodded her head, signaling that _now_ they could go. Before they left the safety of their quarters, she hugged her mother, then went and gingerly hugged Fitz. He leaned down and captured her lips with hers. She knew what this meant. It was an in-case-we-don't-make-it kiss. He wanted her to know just how much he loved her, that he would give his life before he ever let anything happen to her. When he pulled away, they locked eyes, saying everything they needed to say with just one look.

"Should we go back to the house to get supplies?" Olivia asked, looking towards the big house.

"Yeah, but let me and Harrison go in while you and Greta keep watch," he told her.

She nodded her head, signaling that she agreed. She looked around at the people she considered her family and friends. Even though she lived in the house, she remembered what it was like to be in the quarters and how they had a sort of camaraderie between them. As her eyes passed over everyone, she hoped that her actions wouldn't cause them much trouble. She knew that she would never see them again and wished that one day they would make it to freedom too.

"Ready?" Fitz asked her, taking her hand.

"Ready."

Each taking a deep breath, they ran out into the night and towards the house. Once they reached it, Olivia and Greta stayed outside as instructed while the men went inside. Fitz quietly told Harrison where Big Gerry was and to go and make sure that he was still knocked out. While he did that, he went up to his room to grab two knapsacks then went back down to Big Gerry's office to grab the guns that he kept there. Going to the gun cabinet, he took out two and a box of bullets. Stuffing those into the knapsack, he went to the kitchen, where upon hearing noise, his mother started banging and demanding to be let out of the pantry. He ignored her and went to the cabinets, shoving whatever food that he could find into the bag. He took the two pitchers of water that were sitting on counter and filled jars, spilling some because his hands were shaking. Finally he had the lids screwed on and he was ready to go, knowing that they needed to go into the woods and find somewhere to hid before the sun came up.

He went to go find Harrison who was standing over Big Gerry. Harrison's fists were bloody and Big Gerry was in a condition that he wasn't in when he and Olivia had left him. It looked like his arm was broken, the same arm that he used to whip slaves, and his nose was crushed in while each of his fingers were bent in an abnormal way. Knowing that he deserved it, Fitz couldn't bring himself to feel anything but hatred for the man that was supposed to love and protect him.

"Let's go. The women are waiting," Fitz told Harrison, handing the other man the knapsack that contained only the food. Fitz didn't trust him with the one that had food and guns.

When they went out the back door, Greta and Olivia were waiting for them, leaning against with house with two dead chickens and a handful of eggs. Olivia gave Fitz a sheepish grin and a shoulder shrug when he looked at her kill. "Good thinking," he praised then took it from her and put it in the bag, but leaving the eggs because he knew they would break.

"Alright let's go."

They went into the woods, each looking around for the slave catchers that were rumored to always be lurking. Fitz stuck by Olivia and Harrison stayed near Greta, both men poised and ready a fight in case a threat were to arise. They walked and they walked and they walked, not exactly sure where they were going, only knowing that they needed to get to the river. Fitz's previous plan of escaping with Olivia and possibly Greta in the open under the pretense of being a slaver was blown out of the water. He knew that as soon as someone discovered Ginny and Big Gerry, likely one of the Dutchmores, that wanted ads would be drawn up and every slave catcher within the tri state area would be looking for them.

The sun was starting to make an appearance, turning the once pitch black sky into a dusky gray. They decided to keep going until the sun was fully up, trying to get as far from the plantation as possible until they found somewhere to lay low for the day. With the sun nearly all the way up, they started keeping their eyes peeled for caves, niches, dugouts or fallen logs, anything that would provide some sort of discretion. It was when the sun finally came up that they realized they would have to take to the trees. Greta climbed into one tree, Harrison climbed into one, and Fitz and Olivia took another refusing to be separated even though they knew the chances of them getting caught was higher because they were together. Because of the risk, they went as high as they could, hoping that the leaves would camouflage them from anyone that happened to look up.

"Here, drink some water," Fitz said, handing her a jar and leaning against the trunk of the tree so that she could lean against him.

She took it from him gratefully, taking long sips before realizing that they had to conserve it. She brought the jar to his lips, having to hold it for him because one of his arms wrapped around her so that she didn't fall and the other was in the sling. He drank then pulled away. She placed the jar back into the knapsack then took out an apple that he had packed. She would take a bite, then place it to his mouth for him to take a bite and so on until it was done. Too afraid to drop the core to the ground, she placed it back into the sack that was slung across her body and carefully leaned back against him. She knew that because of his ribs that the positions should be reversed, but with Fitz being Fitz, she knew that he would feel like he wasn't protecting her if he were leaning against her and not the other way around. She distributed her weight evenly and besides a slight wince, he didn't indicate that he was in pain.

"Do you think we'll make it?" Olivia whispered so low she could barely hear herself.

"I will do everything in my power to make sure that you do," he responded.

"To make sure that _we_ do," Olivia corrected, not knowing what she would do if something happened to him.

"Olivia, if it comes down to me losing my life to make sure that you get to freedom, then that's what I'm going to do," Fitz informed her.

"Don't talk like that. We're both going to get to Canada and we're going to be okay," she said, finding it hard to even believe her own words.

"I'll try my best to make sure that happens," Fitz promised.

"I love you. I just need you to know that. Just in case…" Olivia said, getting choked up.

"I love you, too. Now go to sleep. You need to get your rest for when we start again," he said, placing a kiss to her temple and rubbing light circles on her stomach to try and soothe her.

She fought it for as long as she could, but soon her eyes were too heavy to keep open and she fell asleep leaning against Fitz. From the evenness of his breathing, she could tell that he had fallen asleep too, albeit so light that a moth would probably wake him. This was just the first step in a long journey they were just now embarking on. She knew it was going to be hard, but in the end, if he was by her side, if her mother was safe and even if Harrison got to where he needed to be, she knew that it would all be worth it.

* * *

**AN: So whatcha think? Some predicted that Big Gerry was going to rape Olivia then sell her while others just hoped that he would die. Nope. They ran instead. This is just the beginning of their journey. Idk how long this story is going to be, I guess I'll know when I'm done, but expect a lot more twists, turns, and heartache from here until the end. **

**Fun fact: Domestic refrigerators were invented by Fred W. Wolf in 1913, until then iceboxes rained supreme. I had a hell of time trying to figure out how to describe Fitz gathering food for the journey that wasn't frozen until I said eff it and just had him rummage through cabinets. **

**P.S- if you've noticed, I've decided to change the titles of the chapters to Swahili words, something I wanted to do from the beginning to carry on the theme from the title, but am just now getting to.**


	8. Makazi

**Disclaimer: I don't own Scandal**

**AN: Sup guys! Soooo here is the next chapter of Uhuru. A lot of little research went into this chapter, things that you wouldn't think needed to be looked up,but I looked up anyways just to make sure I was as historically accurate as possible. Anyways, happy reading ;). **

* * *

"Fitz…?" Olivia whispered.

They had been in the trees for hours, barely moving and not saying a word for fear that someone would hear them. By her estimates, Olivia would guess that it was four in the afternoon, but since it was summer, the sun wouldn't be setting for a few more hours.

"Hmmm….?" He responded softly.

"I need to use the bathroom," she told him somewhat meekly.

"Can you hold it a few more hours? It'll be dark soon enough," he said, shifting a little behind her.

Their limbs had long since fallen asleep and she knew that she was going to have a hell of a time walking when it was time to start moving again. The branch that they were perched on was unforgiving and extraordinarily uncomfortable. Only by sheer exhaustion was she able to get a couple of hours of sleep, though she was often woken by a bird fluttering by or a squirrel scurrying in the leaves.

"I've been holding it, I can't anymore," she admitted, having already reached her max limit.

"Okay, well just go," he told her casually.

"What?" She wasn't sure she understood his meaning.

"Its way too dangerous to get down from the tree," he explained, "so just go ahead and go,"

She looked at him as if there was no way in hell she was going to do that. But then the reality of the situation hit her again and she knew that there was no room for modesty. With his good arm, Fitz reached up and tore off a piece of his sleeve and handed it to Olivia. She took it gratefully, happy that she wouldn't have to use a leaf to wipe, then scooted down towards the end of the branch.

"Cover your eyes," Olivia told Fitz, peeking over her shoulder at him.

He chuckled a little bit but did what she asked, covering his eyes and turning his head. She quickly relieved herself, her full bladder practically crying out in relief. When she was completely done, she hung Fitz's shirt sleeve on the end of the branch then carefully scooted back towards Fitz. Once again she distributed her weight as evenly as possible then leaned back against him. His arm went protectively around her waist and she sighed in contentment.

"Feel better?" he teased.

"Very much so. Just wait till you have to go," she teased back, closing her eyes and deciding to get a little more rest before the sun went down.

"Are you hungry?" Fitz asked her.

"No. I'm gonna try to get a lit…" before she could finish her statement, Fitz's hand clamped over her mouth.

Looking up at him, her brows burrowed in confusion, he removed his hand from her mouth and put his index finger to his lips to signal her to be quiet. She was still confused, not having heard any noises to signal that someone was near, but then she heard the crunch of someone stepping on a twig. She was a little skeptical that someone was actually there, it probably being a wild animal. But she was quiet nevertheless, afraid to even breathe.

"Be aware, Bill, these niggers are very crafty when it comes to running away," a man's voice sounded, his heavy country accent slicing through the otherwise quiet air.

"Don't I know it, Joe" another voice came in, Bill's, this time his accent not as thick but there nonetheless.

"They like to hide out in caves and in logs. One time I even caught one in the water using a hollow stick as a breathing tube," Joe informed Bill.

Olivia's heart was pounding wildly in her chest, so hard that she could feel it in her throat. She thought that it was so loud that the slave catchers below could hear it. As they continued walking, Olivia could hear their voices getting closer. They kept talking about places they had found slaves, bragging about the money they got for them upon turning them in. It made Olivia sick. She wanted to take one of Fitz's guns and shoot them but she didn't dare move a muscle.

"Sometimes they even like to hide in trees like the monkeys they are," one of the sneered, "so make sure to look up as we walk."

Olivia prayed that she had Fitz were high enough to be hidden from view and she also prayed that Harrison and her mother were safe as well. The voices got ever closer until suddenly they stopped. Risking a peak down, through the many layers of leaves, she could just barely see two figures standing at the base of the tree.

"Is that urine?" one of them asked the other, thinking that perhaps there were people around.

"I believe it is," the other answered in a curious tone, catching on to what was being hinted at.

"Is it human? I can't tell." Olivia could see one of the figures move, walking around the trunk and appearing to look up into the trees.

For a second, she thought that he saw her because at the exact moment she looked at him, he stopped and stared up at her. She just knew they were caught. But then he kept walking, circling back to his partner having decided that there was nothing to see. She wanted to be relieved that he hadn't spotted her, but couldn't, not until they were long gone from here.

"It's probably from a wolf or something. I doubt that it's human," the other finally answered and both men moved away from the tree.

They kept walking, their voices getting further and further away until Olivia couldn't hear them at all. They were safe. For now. Too wired to rest, Olivia kept her eyes peeled and her ears perked, trying to stay one step ahead of anyone that could possibly be after them. Fitz did the same behind her, not making a sound but Olivia could feel him shifting, no doubt trying to be vigilant from all angles. They did this well into the evening.

* * *

"Hello! Ginny?" Mellie called out from the entryway into the Grant household for the second time that day.

Her and her mother had come by earlier to go over more wedding plans and immediately upon arrival, they sensed something was off. There were no slaves or overseers out in the fields and it was dead quiet. The first thing that entered Mrs. Dutchmore's mind was that a slave rebellion had taken place. She was reminded of a rebellion, a massacre really, that happened some twenty odd years ago. Her neighbors had all been slaughtered, innocent men, women, and children gunned down in their homes. By the time the mob reached her home, the slaves had run out of ammo. Her father had taken great pride in being the one to tie the noose that ended the life of the leader of the rebellion. She'd never forget his name; Nat Turner. People were still telling his tale.

Figuring that if it was a rebellion similar to what had happened all those years ago, there'd be more dead bodies and word would've already reached them, Mrs. Dutchmore decided that that wasn't what took place here. Still suspicious though, they went back to their home to get Mr. Dutchmore, too afraid to remain on the property alone. After hearing their explanation, Mr. Dutchmore immediately got his shotgun and went back with his wife and daughter to the Grant plantation.

Upon not getting a response, they headed further into the house, Mr. Dutchmore's shotgun leading the way as the woman followed behind him at a safe distance. They checked a couple of rooms, not finding anyone. Not a soul moved throughout the Grant home, something that was highly unusual especially when Ginny knew that they were coming today.

Then a sound stopped them cold in their tracks. Mr. Dutchmore raised his weapon higher and listened to see if he heard the sound again. It was almost like a moaning, a pain filled noise that sounded like it came from a dying cat. Then another sound came it was clearly some saying 'help me.' Realizing that it was Ginny, they followed the noise into the kitchen. Moving the chair off of the knob and unlocking the door, Mr. Dutchmore opened the pantry to find Mrs. Grant curled up in a ball in the corner of the room. Her hair was frazzled and her knuckles were bloody from banging on the door.

"Ginny? What happened?" Mrs. Dutchmore asked as she rushed to comfort the other woman.

"My son…he…he trapped me in here," Mrs. Grant stuttered out.

"Fitzgerald? No way," Mellie scoffed, not believing Ginny one bit. "How long have you been in here for?

"I don't know. Hours. Days. Weeks," Ginny exaggerated, knowing full well it had only been a night.

"Well, I was here just the other day, so it hasn't been weeks," Mellie remarked, still not convinced that her Fitz had anything to do with this.

"You said that Fitzgerald did this? Why would you say that?" Mr. Dutchmore asked, trying to get to the bottom of the situation.

"Because of that nigger girl Olivia. Mellie you were right, they had a thing going on. Yesterday Big Gerry tried to whip her and Fitz stood in the way. I guess he got mad and he attacked me," Ginny shared.

Mellie sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes in anger, knowing that had they taken care of this problem when she had brought it up, none of this would have happened. Now, judging from the absence of everyone, Fitz and his whore were on the run and who knows how many lives were lost.

"Where is Gerry?" Mrs. Dutchmore asked, scared to know the answer.

"I think…" Ginny paused to let out a sob, "I think that they killed him."

"Ann, you and Mellie stay here with Ginny while I go and try and find Gerry," Mr. Dutchmore instructed.

"Be careful, James. You don't know what has happened or where anyone is," Mrs. Dutchmore warned.

James nodded his head then went to find Gerry. He peered into several rooms, looking in closets and under furniture but getting no luck. He called out Gerry's name several times but didn't get a response. He was about to go check upstairs when he remembered to check the room at the back of the house. Heading closer to room, the coopery smell of blood hit James' nose and he immediately rushed forward, hoping that he wasn't about to discover a dead body. The door was partially cracked allowing him to see a bloody boot. Pushing it all the way open, James was horrified to see Big Gerry battered and bruised, his eyes closed and his chest not appearing to rise with intakes of breathes.

Crouching down low to the body, James put two fingers to Gerry's neck to feel for a pulse. He had to press down hard, but just barely there was a flicker of life. It was clear that he had several broken bones and the swelling on his face made him unrecognizable. Shaking his head in digust, James could feel his anger rising.

"Oh my God, Gerry…" Ginny sobbed as she peered over James' shoulder at her husband's near lifeless body. Behind her were Mellie and Ann.

"We have to get him to the hospital, but there is no way we'd be able to lift him," James assessed. "I'm going to go out to the quarters to see if any of the slaves are still here and to see happened to the overseers. You two stay here and make sure that no one comes to finish off the job."

James went to leave the woman to guard Big Gerry and tried to close the door to add a little bit of protection but one of the hinges was broken. He pulled his pistol from the back of his waistband and handed it to Mellie. Ann looked aghast at the thought of her daughter, a proper young lady, using the gun, but James knew that his daughter knew how to use the weapon. He had taught her after all.

Heading out the back, James saw two horses grazing in the fields, their saddles still on their backs. He knew that was a telltale sign that the overseers were dead. It would make no sense for their horses to be roaming with saddles on otherwise. Warily, he continued to the cabins but stopped right outside of them. Pointing his weapon in the air, he fired off one shot then yelled for everyone to come out pronto. People started to trickle out of the quarters, lining up in front of James and waiting for what was going to happen next. When everyone was out, he started talking.

"You, little girl, come stand over hear by me," James commanded.

This was a strategic move designed to reestablish the lines of power. If anyone even thought to get out of line, he wouldn't hesitate to blow this little girl's brains out. At first, she clung to her mother's skirt, afraid of moving and tears starting to come down her face. But then James cocked his gun again and her mother gave her a little nudge. The little girl went and stood near James, making sure to keep a little distance between them. Seeing this, James grabbed her arm and yanked her closer to him, positioning her directly in front of him and placing an arm around her neck.

"First things first, I need you two," he pointed to two men, "to go into the house and carry Big Gerry to the carriage. And I need one of you to go the nearest plantation and tell them to send over their overseers."

Quickly, the chosen people scrambled to do what was asked of them while everyone stood and waited for direction. He also chose three people to go and find the dead overseers, instructing to bring their bodies to the front so that they could be returned to their families for a proper burial. "Now I'm going to ask a few questions and I want everyone to be as honest as possible, got it?"

"Yessir," the collective group answered back.

"Good. Who attacked Big Gerry and locked Mrs. Grant in the closet?" James asked his first question even though he already had an idea of who it was. He just wanted to see if they were going to be honest.

No one spoke up. Namely because they weren't too sure who exactly did it. They knew it was between Fitzgerald, Olivia, Harrison and Greta so instead of saying all the names, they said nothing. Nodding his head and saying "okay," James pointed to another child and had her come forward. Once she reached him, James aimed the shotgun at the first girl's head and pulled the trigger, blood spattering everywhere and her little body fell to the ground. The girl's mother screamed and rushed forward, clutching her dead baby close as she rocked back and forth.

"I _SAID _who attacked Big Gerry and locked Mrs. Grant in the closet!" James yelled, not liking that he had to repeat himself.

All at once, the names started flowing, everyone trying to prevent the other little girl from dying. Putting his hand up to silence the chatter, James pointed to one person and had them recite the names that everyone was saying.

"And where are they now?" He asked his next question.

"They ran off, sir" the same person answered, not knowing an exact location.

"Anyone else go with them?" Being that it wasn't his plantation, he didn't know the exact number of slaves the Grants had. But since they were planning to merge soon, he knew the figure was around forty to fifty. Eyeballing the crowd, he determined that it was around there.

"Elisha be the only other one."

"Get me something with their scent on it," James ordered, "and the rest of you get to work. This is not free day.

While James managed the slaves, Mellie and Ann rode with Ginny to the hospital. Gerry was definitely touch and go and Ginny kept her finger under his nose to make sure that he was still breathing. They arrived almost half an hour later, the two slaves that took them there carrying Big Gerry into the facility. Immediately, the nurse called for a stretcher and they laid him on it then led him off to a room to be looked at by the doctor.

* * *

When the sun finally went down, they carefully made their way down the branches until they reached the ground. They stretched their dead limbs, the blood flowing to veins that were previously deprived. Olivia shook out her hands, feeling the numb tingly feeling go from the tips of her fingers until she finally felt normal. She looked over to Fitz who stretched as gingerly as he could and she felt a wave a sadness hit her for what he went through with his own father.

"Did you guys hear those catchers?" Greta asked as they all met up.

"Yeah, he was right below us," Olivia said, still a tad shook up.

"It's a good thing he didn't see you guys. Next time you two should take separate trees before you get us all killed," Harrison snidely remarked.

Rolling her eyes, Olivia chose to ignore him. She took a look around her surroundings, trying to picture the woods in the daytime so that she could try and pick a path. But at this point, everything looked exactly the same and she had no idea of how to proceed from here.

"What now?" Greta voiced Olivia's thoughts.

"I think that we should take a short break to eat then get going," Olivia said, thinking of taking care of her most basic needs first.

"We don't have time to sit and eat," Harrison said rudely, "not unless you want to get caught.

Fitz gave Harrison a look that told him that he needed to shut the hell up and to never talk to Olivia like that again. He understood that this was a stressful situation, but that was no reason to lash out on the only people that were in his corner. "Harrison is right, Liv. We can't linger for too long. I have biscuits and fruit and we can eat while we walk.

"Okay, what path are we taking? Olivia asked, straining her ears to try and hear any signs that the river was near.

"We follow the north star," Greta answered, pointing her finger up to starry night sky. Luckily for them, the moon was out, but it wasn't full. It provided them with enough light for them to be able to see a little more than five feet ahead of them but not get detected by anyone that was looking.

Harrison nodded his approval then forged ahead of everyone, not speaking but automatically expecting everyone to fall in line behind him. Fitz, Greta, and Olivia shared a look but followed behind him anyways, figuring of the three, he was the most savvy in escaping. As they headed out deeper into the forest, Olivia noticed that Fitz was walking slower than the rest, trying his hardest to keep up but still a couple of paces behind. Every time she looked back his teeth would be gritted and he looked as if he was trying not to whimper in pain. A few times she asked him if he needed a break but he would shake his head and try to put a pep in his step only to fall back behind a few minutes later. She was going to have to figure something out about his injuries because at this pace, if they came into another conflict, she was afraid that he wouldn't make it.

"How much further do you think we have to go?" Greta asked as she looked up into the sky. The moon was disappearing and the once pitch black night taking on tones of gray.

"I don't think that we're going the right way," Olivia brought although she didn't know which way was the right way.

They had been traveling north, following the star, but had started drifting northwest and Olivia knew that if they kept going on this path, they would completely miss the river and would end up somewhere they didn't want to be. She wanted to correct this mistake before they diverged too far and lost hours of traveling time back pedaling.

"You don't know which way is the right way," Harrison said, still moving.

"I think we should head east," Olivia suggested, not knowing why, but trusting her gut instinct.

"No. We're already on this path," Harrison dismissed.

"I think that we should listen to Olivia. If she says east, we should go east," Fitz spoke up for one of the first times that night.

"I don't think…"

"Look Harrison, if you want to keep going this way, the way we've been going all night to no avail, then go ahead. But you'll be doing it by yourself," Fitz said in a firm voice then took Olivia's hand and headed in a different direction.

He didn't have to look back to know that Harrison was following behind them. Because they only had an hour or two left of darkness, they picked up the pace, Fitz trying his best not to be a burden and slow everyone down. Almost an hour later, Olivia stopped and cocked her ear. Fitz was immediately on red alert but then he heard what she heard.

Rushing water.

Olivia had been right. They kept going, this time a little faster and when they met the riverbank, they nearly sank to their knees in joy. The smartest thing to do would be to cross it to clear the trail their scent might have left. The river looked to be rather wide and the current was fast. But they didn't have time to fashion a raft. They had to cross now. Luckily everyone knew how to swim, having taken advantage of the pond at the plantation.

Fitz tied up the food bag as tight as he could, and since the majority of the bread products, they didn't have to worry about ruining the food. They each took a deep breath and waded into the water, the cold of it shocking their system but only making them that more determined to move faster. They walked until their feet couldn't touch the bottom anymore. The cold water soothed some of Fitz's aches and he was moving easier, using his good arm and his legs to propel him forward. Greta, the weakest swimmer of the bunch lagged behind, making Olivia afraid to get too far ahead of her. The current, though, was pushing them down stream as they fought to paddle their arms. Harrison, strong from working in the fields saw that Greta was beginning to get swept up swam back for her, having her loop her arms around his neck and just kick while he did the rest of the work.

Swimming straight forward was getting harder and harder and they were only half way across, the current only seeming to get stronger as their limbs exerted all of their energy. But they pushed forward, Olivia occasionally getting swept up and dragged under only to resurface seconds later. Fitz stayed behind her, ready to dive if she didn't bob back up, just wishing that they'd be across soon. Eyes on the shore, Fitz didn't notice the log until it was too late. It came hurtling at them, catching Olivia's side and pulling her with it.

"OLIVIA!" Fitz called as she was propelled downstream, her arms flailing as she bobbed under the water.

Instinct took over and Fitz dove under the water, using the current and his legs to push him towards Olivia. He looked up and saw that she was about ten feet in front of him, still struggling to regain control of her body. He dove back under but didn't account for the undertow, the harsh water causing his body to tumble and flip and the food bag to be ripped from his shoulder. When he finally stopped turning, he broke the surface, gasping for breath and frantically searching for Olivia. He didn't see her in front of him and he got scared that she was pulled under.

"FITZ!" Olivia called from behind him.

Somehow he had passed her and he turned his body against the flow of water. This slowed him down a bit and he positioned himself in her direction. He used the last bit of his arm strength and pure adrenaline to swim ahead, feeling like he would go forward only to get pushed five feet back. But since he was going towards Olivia and she was coming towards him, they met in the middle and she slammed into him, almost knocking the wind from his body. Now that he had her, he had to think of a way to make sure they both didn't die. They were pretty far from where they started and Harrison and Greta weren't insight.

They were coming to a bend and the width of the river shrunk. Taking this opportunity, they worked in tandem and swam to shore, finally dragging themselves out of the water. They collapsed onto the sand, completely exhausted. They coughed and wheezed, their chests rising and falling with each labored breath taken. Olivia wished that she could curl up right there and sleep and give her body a chance to recover, but they were out in the open and they needed to move. The sun was just starting to peek through and they still needed to find Harrison and Greta.

"Are you okay?" Olivia breathed, lifting and turning her head to the side to face Fitz after a few minutes.

He nodded his head, still trying to catch his breath. She dropped her head back into the wet sand, not even bothering to wipe the gritty substance from the side of her face. She didn't know how long they stayed like that, still trying to recover from almost drowning. Once again Fitz saved her, almost sacrificing himself in the process. She would forever be indebted to this man and she didn't know how she was going to every repay him for this gift of life and freedom.

"Liv, we gotta move," Fitz said, his voice scratchy from coughing.

She gave herself to the count of three then sat up, deciding to take baby steps. She reached out to Fitz and helped him into a similar position and they caught their breath before standing fully upright. Her legs felt like limp noodles and she nearly collapsed again, but from somewhere deep down, she found the strength to somehow put one foot in front of the other and walk back up stream. Fitz did the same, though he was slightly hunched over and holding his side. They slowly but surely walked until they saw two figures approaching them. Harrison and Greta. As they got closer, she could see that they were alright, but it appeared that Harrison had lost his bag as well.

They met in the middle and upon seeing their exhausted state, Harrison slung Fitz's arm around his shoulder and let him lean on him for support. Greta did the same with Olivia and they trudged forward into the forest to look for a place to hide that wasn't too far in. There was no way Olivia could make it into a tree so they had to find somewhere on the ground to hide. They followed a narrow stream that had diverged from the river until they were met with a pooled area that was surrounded by trees and dead branches. The tide had gone out leaving the little pond shallower than normal but also exposing a carved out area that was tucked under where the ground met the water. The mud and dirt that had built up over time created an overhang that would block them from view if they curled themselves under it. The branches and leaves hanging over it provided even more camouflage and though Olivia was a bit skeptical of getting back in the water, since it was still and the sun was coming, she figured that this was going to be the best they could do.

Getting in, she ducked under the overhang and pushed her back against the mud wall, tucking her feet in so that she wouldn't be spotted. Fitz, Greta, and Harrison did the same, her mother and Fitz taking either side of her while Harrison stayed next to Greta. It was a little more comfortable than the tree, but she knew that she'd have to stretch her legs every couple of hours to keep from cramping. Cupping her hands, she scooped up some water into her palms and brought it to her lips to drink. She repeated the action, but this time, brought the water to Fitz's lips so that he wouldn't have to bend and damage his ribs any further. Greta and Harrison did the same, hydrating themselves with several cupped handfuls. Fitz let his hand drop into the water and at first Olivia was confused as to what he was doing. But then he quickly closed his fist and when he opened it again, there was a tiny flopping minnow. He handed it her and closing her eyes, she quickly swallowed it, shuddering as the slimy creature went down her throat.

He did this again and again, all four of them trying to catch fish by following his model, until they were full. Stroking his hair, Olivia coaxed Fitz into him leaning his head on her shoulder. Reluctantly he did so, though she could tell that he'd rather the positions were reversed. Her eyes slowly started to droop. Beside her Fitz's breathing had gone even and she looked down to confirm that he was indeed asleep. Greta and Harrison had fallen asleep as well, the long journey and the swim taking its toll on their body. She had no idea where they were right now, only hoping that they'd get to a free state soon so that their journey to Canada would be smoother.

* * *

Big Gerry had been touch and go all night. The doctors had bandaged him up as best as possible. Most of his injuries were the broken bones. He didn't have any internal bleeding and both of his lungs were still intact. However, he did have a pretty severe concussion that caused him to stay in an unconscious state and the doctors were concerned that there was swelling on his brain that could cause problems. They kept him sedated, hoping that his body just needed to heal itself.

"I cannot believe Fitzgerald did this," Mellie said to Ginny, the women walking out the hospital for the first time that afternoon.

"Neither can I. I always knew that there was something different about him but I didn't think that he'd betray his family, betray his own kind for that little bitch," Ginny sneered, looking down at her bruised knuckles and blood stained hands.

"It's okay. My daddy is on the case and he'll find them and make them pay," Mellie promised.

"Over the years we've had five slaves to run away and within a fortnight, they were all caught. If anyone can find them, it's James," Ann added.

"Well good. Because when they do find them, no mercy will be shown," Ginny spat, no longer having any compassion towards her son and only feeling pure hatred towards Olivia.

* * *

"Alright boys, eight hundred goes to man that finds and brings back the three niggers and the nigger lover. An extra hundred to the man that brings them back within the week," James announced to the local catchers. "Here's some samples of their scents."

He let the men take a piece of cloth, the catchers letting their basset hounds smell the scents so that they would be able to track the runaways. There were five men in total, each the leader of their own catcher group and were the best in the business of catching and returning runway slaves. Among them was Jake Ballard, the best known catcher in Virginia. He had built up quite a reputation to himself, catching over fifty runways. He was quick and he was efficient and if anyone could catch them, Jake and his men could.

"If you don't mind me asking, why does this matter to you?" Jake questioned. He was used to the slave master's looking for their slaves, not friends seeking vengeance for a wrong doing that seemingly had nothing to do with them.

"Because Fitzgerald Grant was supposed to marry my daughter and unite our families, bringing power and money to us all. By him doing what he did, he stole from me and I don't take kindly to people that steal from me," James explained in a harsh tone. "Bring them all back. Alive," James said then turned away and left the men to their work.

* * *

**AN: So amateur slave catchers that weren't looking for them in particular almost caught Olivia and Fitz. Big Gerry is alive and James is out for vengeance. (Btw, it's not the James from the show but if you wish to picture him that way, be my guest.) Also, just in case you're wondering, they are at the Rappahannock River in eastern Virginia. From Richmond, where the plantation is, its a sixteen hours and fifty eight minutes walk, which adds up to be around two nights. I literally put that into the map app on my phone to see if the time frame fit, lol. Also we are introduced to Jake, or as some of you like to call him, Joke. Idk yet what kind of person I'm going to make him. Obviously as a catcher, he isn't going to be great, but we'll see. Anyways, leave me a me a review telling me what you thought.**

**Fun Fact 1: The first 9-1-1 call was paced in Alabama in 1968 and the numbers were chosen by AT&T just 35 days earlier. Crazy right? I thought it was older than that. While I now that they didn't have phones at this time, I was still curious to know the answer. **

**Fun Fact 2: Morphine was widely used until 1857 after the invention of hypodermic needles. Ooooohhhh, so close, but so sorry Big Gerry, while it was invented, he probably didn't receive the pain medicine.**

**Fun Fact 3: The word gurney, at the time being a horse drawn cab, wasn't used until until Theodore Gurney coined it in 1883. Before that, it was simply a stretcher.**

**P.S: How cute was Olivia telling Fitz that she just needed to hear his voice? And I knew that Mama Pope had something up her sleeve. And Sally killing her husband? Cray Cray. Booo for the break though, its lasting until Feb. 27. I'm guessing they've made it that long to film as many episodes as possible before Kerry really starts to show.**

**P.P.S: For those of you wondering, the title of the last chapter meant Time to Run and the title of this chapter means Shelter, a pretty fitting song by John Legend I was listening to as I wrote the chapter. And per your request, to the guest reviewer that calls yourself The Nigerian, hello and thank you for reading and reviewing. **


	9. Karibu

**Disclaimer: I don't own Scandal.**

**AN: Hello all, how's it going? I'm good thanks for asking, lol. Anyways, I don't have too much to say, so here's the next chapter. Enjoy. ;)**

* * *

"Alright, so here's the plan. We're going to circumvent them and head straight to Alexandria. They are bound to pass through and we will be waiting," Jake announced, pacing back and forth in front of his team.

He knew that they were long gone by now so looking locally would be pointless. While the rest of the men James hired were in the woods in and around Richmond, Jake was already gathering materials and saddling up his horses to head north to Alexandria and hopefully catch them before they made it to a free state. Though being in a free state would make it harder for him to return them to Gerry's plantation, it didn't mean it would be impossible. Without free papers, there were a few things he could do to get them back to the south and once the boarder was crossed, he would be in complete control again.

"We're heading out in two hours, so make sure that y'all are ready to ride."

His men nodded and all said that they were ready to go. Before they left, however, one more meeting with James was required to find out all that he could to make his job as easy and successful as possible. Hopping back on his horse, Jake rode of towards the Dutchmores, already trying to think ten steps ahead of the runaways.

* * *

"Tell us the truth, Dr. Rosen. Is my husband going to be okay," Ginny asked, Anne and Mellie by her side.

It had been another long night and Big Gerry had yet to open his eyes. All of his broken bones were set in casts and he remained sedated. The concussion that he suffered may have caused more damage than the doctors initially anticipated. They were worried about bleeding on the brain, a blood clot that started in his legs and seemed to have traveled, and he was in danger of suffering a stroke. The best option was to keep him in this coma like state for a few more days until they came up with a solid plan of action.

"Right now, ma'am, it's in God's hands. His injuries were worse than what we initially expected. We thought that they were all superficial, but they are internal as well. We just have to keep the faith and hope that he pulls through," Dr. Rosen announced, putting his hands in the pockets of his lab coats.

Ginny wanted a more official answer than 'we'll see,' but there was nothing else that she could do at this point. She looked down at her husband's broken and battered body and tears formed on the corners of her eyes. She quickly wiped them away, but others replaced them. She wasn't only weeping for Gerry, but for Fitzgerald as well. While she was extremely hurt and angry for what he did, the mother in her couldn't help but worry about him out there in the woods. She knew that when Big Gerry woke up that he would do anything within his power to make sure that Fitzgerald and Olivia paid for the wrongs they committed. And while Ginnny agreed that a punishment needed to be put in place, she knew that Gerry would settle for nothing less than blood. Fitz was still her son and though she knew that she would never forgive him for what he did, a small part of her hoped that he got somewhere safe before Gerry woke up and James' people found him.

* * *

The sun was setting and it was almost time to head out again. This hiding place had worked out better than the tree. The water had kept them cool in the hot summer heat, but Olivia was worried that they extra weight of having it soaked into their clothes would slow them down. Fitz was already moving slower and she knew that he didn't need anything else hindering him. Looking down at him, she stroked his head lovingly and he stirred in his sleep. They had all gotten a full day's worth of rest, tired from the river and also more confident in their hiding place, they just allowed their bodies to shut down for a while and recharge.

Fitz groaned as he sat up, his bones creaking and his back cracking as he stretched as best as he could in the limited space. His long limbs moved out in front of him and his muscles nearly screamed in relief. He was feeling a little better than the day before, the soreness in his shoulder was still there but it was more of a dull ache now. Most of the pain that he had settled in his ribs. He had gotten used to the feeling by now and hoped that meant he could keep up better. Looking around, he could see the orange glow of the setting sun play across the calm water and for a second, he felt a bit of peace. Looking over, he saw how the glow of the sun played across Olivia's brown skin and he fell in love all over again.

"Hi," she whispered, not trying to wake her mother or Harrison, just wanting this one moment alone with Fitz.

"Hi," he smiled back.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, noticing the bruising was still present but was just starting to yellow in some places.

"A little better, but it's going to take some time before I feel completely alright," Fitz answered, though he wasn't only talking about his injuries.

He knew that his father was a son of a bitch, but a part of him never thought that he would take it that far. He had been hit by his father before, had been pushed down and shoved up against wall on multiple occasions, but nothing that left him physically incapacitated. He knew that his father had been serious when he said that when he was done with Olivia that he would've killed them. The idea that his father was that much of a monster that he would kill his own child troubled him, but he shouldn't have expected anything different.

"I'm happy that you're feeling better because we have a long way to go," Olivia said, holding out her hand.

He laced his fingers with hers and sighed in contentment. He wished that things could be different. He wished that they weren't hiding and that he could take care of Olivia the way that she deserved .One day he would. Lowering his head, he connected his lips with hers and kissed her sweetly and tenderly. She kissed him back, getting lost in the way he felt and forgetting her surroundings for those few blissful moments.

"I love you," he mumbled against her lips, kissing them again, once, twice, three more times before pulling away.

"I love you, too."

They had a few more minutes to themselves before the sun finally disappeared and the glowing moon took its place. They murmured about the kind of life they would have in Canada. About the cabin Fitz would build them, about the kids they would have, and how Fitz would be mayor. It was a perfect dream. Frogs and crickets began to serenade the night and that was their cue to get going. Greta and Harrison woke up and once they had stretched and drank some water, they were ready to go.

"We'll follow the river upstream until it ends then we'll figure out where to go from there," Harrison took charge as the women wrung the water from their skirts.

"I don't think that we should follow the river all the way down," Greta spoke up. "It goes in the opposite direction of the North star."

"It's also our only source of food and fresh water. If we walk into the forest and get lost, we could die out there," Harrison argued.

"And we'll die if we go the wrong way and get caught. We're going the way Greta thinks," Fitz defended.

The last time they ignored Harrison's orders, it had turned out well for them. He figured that they should listen to Greta and see where it took them. If they went the wrong way, they'd deal with it. But if it turned out to be right, well then great. Looking up at the sky, Greta identified the brightest star and pointed the direction she thought they should go.

"This way," she said then headed off.

Fitz, Olivia and Harrison followed after her, Harrison mumbling about how no one ever wanted to listen to him. Olivia rolled her eyes but kept her comments to herself, not really wanting to add to the already existing tension. Harrison had to get it through his head that no one asked him to accompany them and while she was grateful for how he went back for her mother and helped Fitz, he needed to keep his opinions to himself.

A few hours into the walk, Olivia's grumbling stomach began to get louder and louder and she could feel herself become lightheaded from low blood sugar. She hadn't eaten since those few minnows that morning and it was starting to take a toll on her body. Though she was used to hunger, in order to make the journey, her body needed fuel. Taking notice, Fitz started looking around him as they walked, plucking berries from trees and inspecting them to determine if they were poisonous or not. Finally he came across a bush that was ripe with berries that were edible and picked a handful and handed them all to Olivia.

She knew that he had to be as hungry as her, perhaps even more since his body wasn't used to going without, but his was forever putting her over himself, already picking another handful for her and not even stopping to eat some himself. Harrison and Greta gathered some for themselves, gorging on the fruit as Olivia went over to the bush to gather the berries for herself so that Fitz could eat as well. She ate so fast that her stomach started to hurt and she had to slow down before she threw up, knowing that she couldn't because she couldn't afford to lose any water. When they were done, the dark juices stained her fingertips and the corners of her lips. Fitz, being that he was white, looked even funnier, the fruit showing up a vibrant red on his skin. She stifled her laugh and ate a few more until she couldn't possibly stuff another berry into her mouth. Fitz put some in the pockets of his pants for later.

They were on the move again, having already walked at least four hours and having five more until the sun was fully up. Olivia's feet were aching and sore and bleeding, but she kept going, ignoring the fatigue and pain and picturing the life that she and Fitz had talked about and knowing that this would all pay off.

She looked over at her mother, surprised and pleased that she was keeping up so well. After years and years of hard work, Greta deserved some peace and freedom and Olivia was going to do anything within her power to make sure that that happened.

"Do you think they're looking for us?" Greta asked out of the blue. "I mean, I know they were in the beginning, but do you think they're still looking?" she asked to no one in particular.

"I know my father and I know that if he is alive, he's looking for us. And if he's not, I know that James Dutchmore is because he probably feels like I robbed him of the deal to join the plantations," Fitz answered.

"But we walked a long way away, there ain't no way they can find us," Greta said, more thinking out loud than looking for a response."

"That doesn't mean that other slave catchers aren't around, Mama. We have to still be careful," Olivia said.

"I know that. I'm just saying, if one of Gerry's men catches us, we're dead. But if someone else catches us, the worse that would probably happen is that we'd be sold to someone new," Greta tried to reason.

"Either way, Mama, we can't think like that. We need to be aware of any and everything," Olivia responded, needing to remind her mother the importance of being safe.

"You're right. It's just, there's nothing else to do but to walk and think. Walk and think and worry," Greta said. "I just wish that your father was here to see this. He would be so proud of you."

"Thanks, Mama. But we're not done yet. We still have a long way to go and we're all going to make it. I know it."

Greta just nodded her head at that, not particularly sure that she believed it. They kept walking and walking and walking until the night was almost gone. They were getting worried until they heard the unmistakable sound of water. They had gone the right way and had reached another crucial point in their walk to freedom. At the water's edge was a dock and tied to the dock was a little row boat. As soon as the sun went down for the night, they'd take to the water.

"We'll find somewhere around here to hide for the day then tonight me and Fitz will row the boat upstream," Harrison said.

"Fitz, can you row with your shoulder and all? Maybe I should..." Olivia began.

"I can do it," Fitz cut her off, rotating his shoulder and shoulder showing Olivia that he was fine, hiding the pain from her as best he could.

"Fitz, you don't need to do everything, okay? If I need to row, then I need to row," she spoke to him in quiet tones.

She could tell that Fitz wanted to protest, to be her protector, her knight in shining armor. But she needed him to know that they were a team, that she was saving him as much as he was saving her. "We can take turns," he finally conceded.

Knowing that she wasn't going to get a better offer, she simply nodded her head in agreement. They went back into the woods to hide for the day, this time contorting their bodies into the hollow of a tree, hoping that the shadowy darkness would be enough to keep them concealed from any onlookers.

* * *

"We're just about half way there," Jake said to his men, dismounting his horse and drinking a swig of water from his canteen.

They had ridden through the night and most of the day, stopping only for a few hours for sleep and to eat. They made plenty of ground and Jake had no doubt that they'd meet the runaways in Alexandria. They rode through the forest and along trails, keeping their eyes peeled for any signs that people had been through. When they reached the river, they found two bags washed ashore. One that had a gun in it and the other one that was empty. The gun had the initials FTGII on it and he knew that it was Big Gerry's. They were getting close.

"About how much further would you say we had?" Jake's second in command, Huck, questioned.

"Judging by that gun we found, I would say not too much longer. They can't be too far ahead," Jake said, stooping down and rubbing some wet dirt between his fingertips.

"What are we going to do when we catch them?" The only reason Huck asked this question was because he knew that Jake was known to take a bride from runaways in exchange for him to turn his head; especially from the women.

"We're going to turn them in and collect our money. It's too much to pass up. But from the description James gave us, I might just see how much Olivia is willing to do for her freedom and then turn her in anyways," Jake smirked.

Huck didn't always agree with Jake's methods, but he had to admit, his boss was good at his job. They found lots of people over the years and had made a decent living doing it. Huck, however, wasn't liking being a slave catcher anymore. He felt a piece of his soul break away every time he stared into a face of a slave that he captured. The way the women and children cried as their chance at freedom was ripped away was starting to get to him. He was thinking about switching from catching slaves to catching criminals, feeling that it would be a more rewarding career.

"Alright, let's get going. We have more ground to cover before we can rest," Jake called out before jumping on his horse and riding off.

* * *

Night had come once again and Olivia gave thanks to God that they had made it through another day. Fitz gave her some of the berries he had stashed away in his pocket, trying to split them evenly amongst the four of them but Olivia could tell that he gave himself less so that she could have a little more. They went back down to the water, grateful that the boat was still there. Getting in, Harrison untied them from the dock and Olivia took her position with the oars.

"Olivia…" Fitz chided, not liking that she was trying to row.

Even though they said that they'd take turns, Olivia knew that Fitz had no intentions of honoring that. The only way that she knew to stop him from hurting himself any further was to beat him to the oars.  
"You said that we could take turns. Well, I decided to take my turn first."

Seeing that there was going to be no way he'd get her to move, he took a seat next to Greta and let Harrison and Olivia propel them away from shore. Dipping his hand into the water, Fitz brought some to his lips to taste. Spitting it out immediately, he determined that they were too close to the ocean for the water to be completely salt free. Once they got further inland, he'd try again. For now, he was content to keep lookout, being watchful for any sights, sounds, or hints that anyone was coming.

"I'm so happy that we don't have walk tonight," Greta sighed, massaging her sore feet, "I don't think I would've made it."

"You would've," Harrison said, "even if I had to carry you myself. We all getting to freedom."

Fitz and Olivia shared a look, wishing that they could feel the same optimism. They wouldn't completely feel that they'd make it to freedom until they got to a free state. Olivia and Harrison kept a steady pace and they moved along quickly, the soft current not fighting them as they made their way upstream. About three hours in, Olivia's arms started to burn and sensing it, Fitz insisted that they switch. Begrudgingly, Olivia complied. Greta offered to fill in for Harrison, but he refused.

The two men picked up the pace and they rowed onward. Cupping her hands and reaching down into the water, Olivia tasted it and was so happy that it was fresh that she nearly cried. She drank mouthfuls, nearly falling overboard in attempts to hydrate her body. When she was done, she clasped her hands tightly together and carefully brought the handful to Fitz so that he could drink too. Her mother did the same for Harrison and soon they were all feeling better. Olivia watched Fitz carefully, looking for any signs that he was in pain, but he soldiered through, keeping pace with Harrison and not showing any signs of slowing down.

They traveled about another three hours without incident, the women trying their hand at catching fish from a makeshift net they fashioned out of material from their skirts. They had caught a catfish that they would cut up and set in the sun to dry later that day. Greta and Olivia were just about to cast their net again when a glint of a light caught their attention.

"Get in the water," Fitz demanded in hushed tones, frantically trying to think of a plan.

Harrison, Olivia, and Greta each got in the water, trying their hardest not to make a splash. They hid on the opposite side of the boat, Fitz having stopped moving so as not to blow their cover. The light came closer and closer and they could tell that it was a lantern. They heard voices and Olivia's heart leapt into her throat. She could hear the water lapping against the other boat as they got nearer. The three held their breaths and plunged beneath the surface.

"Hello, gentlemen," Fitz greeted first in the friendliest ways possible.

The boat was filled with three white men. Fitz didn't think they were catchers, but simply fisherman that started their day earlier. Their boat was filled with rods, nets, and bait, a sign that they weren't doing anything but fishing. Fitz just hoped they didn't ask what he was doing out here at this time.

The men nodded their heads in greeting, but other than that, didn't really say a word. They eyed Fitz suspiciously, not saying anything but no doubt taking in the fact that he was on the water without a single piece of fishing gear. Stopping their rowing, they parked their boat right next to Fitz's.

"You're about an hour out from Alexandria. Once you get there, about a mile inland, there will be a house with three lanterns and a candle burning in the window. Knock four times; two times quickly, pause for five seconds, then two more times. Tell her Eddy sent you," one of the men said.

"What?" Fitz asked, confused as to what just happened.

"There's only one thing a man is doing out here with no fishing gear at this time in the morning. Don't worry, she'll get y'all a hot plate and safe place to sleep," another man said then started to row again.

Harrison, Greta, and Olivia resurfaced but waited until they could no longer see the glow of the lantern before climbing back into the boat. Fitz explained to them what had just occurred and neither of them knew if they should trust what the men said or not. They figured that if they meant them harm, that they would've hurt them while they had the chance. Instead they chose to give them a tidbit of information that could possibly help them out. Nobody knew what to make of it, only knew that they had to keep going.

Giving Harrison a break, Greta took over the rowing and Olivia took over for Fitz. The men instead crudely ripped apart the slippery fish, somehow getting it into chunks that would allow it to cook evenly in the hot summer sun. After another hour, just as the men said, they had reached the shore of what had to be Alexandria. They climbed out of the boat and headed inland.

About a mile in, there indeed was a house that had three lanterns and a candle. They had already decided that Fitz would knock first, testing to see how safe it was before beckoning the others. Harrison Greta and Olivia hid in the woods that surrounded the house, patiently waiting for Fitz to come and collect them. Doing what the man said, Fitz knocked four times in the specific pattern and waited for someone to answer.

"Hello," an older woman with silver gray hair and round rosy cheeks answered the door.

"Hello, Eddy sent me," Fitz replied nervously, hoping that this wasn't a trap.

The older woman looked around, craning her head to see if anyone else was with Fitz. "Tell your friends to come out from hiding, it is safe here."

Fitz nodded his head then went to tell the others it was safe. A few minutes later, they all were all gathered around the dining room table in the woman's, Margaret's, house. She fixed them all a bowl of soup and gave them a slice of fresh baked bread to go along with it. Besides giving their thanks, no one spoke, too afraid that if they uttered a word, the other shoe would drop and people would come storming in to take them away.

Once they were done, Margaret had Fitz go out to the well to collect water which she boiled for baths. She laid out clean clothes for them and when he was finished washing, she redressed Fitz's injuries. Margaret didn't ask any questions, simply hummed as tied Fitz's sling.

"You love her don't you," Margaret said, more of a statement that a question.

She had just finished tying Fitz's sling when she voiced her observation. "More than anything else in the entire world," Fitz admitted.

"Good. She loves you too just as much, it's written all over her face. When love is that pure, it deserves to flourish."

She put some soothing ointment on Fitz's ribs then re-bandaged him, not saying anything more on the topic of him and Olivia. Once they were fed and cleaned, she led them upstairs to her attic where she had cots set up. It wasn't much, but it was more than they had in days and they were thankful for whatever they had. Margaret set the lantern down, the only source of light in the attic because there were no windows, and turned to her houseguests.

"You all can stay here for the day. When night falls again, I'll feed you then send you on your way. There's a train that comes through not too far from here and the last couple of cars are used to carry cargo. You can hitch a ride on it and it will take you to Pennsylvania," she said before blowing out the lantern and leaving them.

Olivia laid her head on her pillow, thinking there would never be enough words to express her gratitude towards Margaret. Other than Fitz, she didn't know that there were white people out that had kindness and compassion for someone that looked different than them. Fitz laid down on his cot beside her, but for Olivia, it was too far. "Fitz…" she said softly, not wanting to wake him if he was already asleep.

"Hmmm….?"

"Could you, I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but…"she stumbled out, suddenly feeling shy.

A slight smile came across Fitz's face and he got up and pushed his cot next to Olivia's. Laying back down, he moved towards her, opening his arms for her to come and snuggle in. She threw her leg over his and rested her head on his chest, comfortable for the first time in days. She didn't have to wake up every few minutes to make sure they were safe and didn't have to bend her limbs into positions they didn't go in to make sure nothing was visible. She could stretch out and breathe easy as she rested in the safety of Fitz's arms and Margaret's home.

"We're almost there Livi, we're almost there," Fitz whispered into her ear.

"Tell me about our life in Canada again," Olivia requested, feeling her eyes starting to droop.

"In Canada, we live in a nice cabin with our four kids. I'm the mayor and you make jam…"

* * *

"Joseph, how have you been my friend?" Jake greeted on of his business associate.

They were in Alexandria and the first stop they made was to meet one of his contacts Joseph Bruin. He ran a slave jail here in town and had helped Jake out plenty of times before. Jake set his hat down and took of his jacket.

"Good. Business took a dip a little while back thanks to that damn book, but it's back up again," Joseph said.

"Just let me tell you, I don't believe a word of what that Beecher Stowe lady said about you," Jake said, having read the book Joseph was talking about.

"That's good to know. So tell me, what brings you to Alexandria? Who are you looking for this time?" Joseph asked.

"I'm looking for three runaways traveling with a white man. Two colored women and a man. Apparently the white man feel in love with the nigger girl and his father found out. He attacked his parents and ran off and now I'm looking for them," Jake explained.

"Well I haven't come across anyone fitting that description and we haven't gotten any new prisoners lately, but if I do, I'll let you know. There have, however, been rumors that Margaret Waters up the road has been helping runaways. I'm not sure there's any base to that though," Joseph shared.

"We'll have to look into that," Jake said, "What's her address?"

* * *

The day passed and night fell again and it was time for them to leave. Margaret had been more than kind, waking them up midday to give them lunch and give them an update on the time. They finished up their dinner, Margaret packing them some biscuits and meat to take along and soon they were on their way.

"I just want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart," Olivia said, hugging Margaret at the door.

"It's God's will that all his children be free. I am just his humble servant," Margaret said, truly feeling as though what she was doing should be standard and was nothing extraordinary.

With one last hug, they left, heading out into the night on their way to find the railroad. They were walking away from the house when they heard the unmistakable sound of pounding hooves trampling towards them. From their position, they could see a team of five men charge up towards Margaret's house, their guns drawn. They dismounted from their horses and three men went to the door while two other's headed their way.

Fitz, Olivia, Harrison, and Greta started to run away as fast they could, trying their best to outrun the catchers. Harrison stepped on a branch in his attempts to get away, making a loud snapping sound that alerted the men that someone was out there. The catchers picked up their pace, running towards the direction of the sound. They split up, Fitz and Olivia going one way and Greta and Harrison going another. Greta branched off from Harrison, running as fast as she could. Olivia and Fitz continued to run, Fitz signaling for Olivia to go in another direction to give her a better chance at getting away. Olivia was reluctant to depart from him, but did, running in the opposite direction. She could hear the footsteps coming after her, getting closer and closer.

"Over here, this way. They're running this way," one of the catchers yelled, his voice practically in Olivia's ears.

Her legs were burning and her lungs were on fire but she ran faster, trying her hardest to get away but the man chasing her was faster. He was right on her, about to illuminate her figure with his lantern. But then a loud sound distracted the catcher from his pursuit and he stopped and switched directions. Terrified, Olivia looked to where he was heading and saw the lantern catch the tail end of her mother's skirt.

"I got her," the man catcher announced, the pursuit of the others completely stopped as they headed to see what he caught.

"You morons, that's only one. There are three more to go," another voice sounded, this one deeper and more in charge. "Go after them."

Seeing that her mother sacrificed herself, Olivia was about to announce herself when a hand covered her mouth and pulled her away and further into the darkness. Fitz. She struggled against him, silently protesting as he lifted her from the ground and continued to run. Fitz didn't stop until they were long gone and the sounds of an upcoming train drowned out Olivia's sobs and any possible footsteps that could've been following.

When they reached the railroad tracks, the approaching train blew its whistle, going full steam ahead. When the last couple of cars came up, Fitz tossed Olivia on then ran and jumped on himself. The next thud signaled that Harrison had caught up to them and had made it on as well.

"Where's Greta?" Harrison asked out of breath.

Fitz just shook his head, not able to form the words. But Olivia's cries signaled exactly what happened and a crestfallen expression fell across Harrison's face. "They got her," he said quietly to himself.

Fitz tried to console Olivia, bringing her into the circle of his arms only to have her fight against him. "You shouldn't have taken me away. You…you…I could've saved her. Big Gerry is gonna kill her," Olivia cried, pounding her hands against Fitz's chest.

Harrison went and lifted her away, holding her steady until she was all cried out. She was exhausted and her head was pounding when she finally stopped. She saw the hurt look on Fitz's face and she regretted taking her anger out on him. Wriggling free from Harrison, she went over to him and wrapped his arms around his waist, needing to feel something solid, to feel loved, to feel him.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't let them get you too," he whispered.

"She…she knew they were about to get me. She made that noise on purpose so that they would change directions," Olivia said, feeling the tears starting to come again. "Tell me that it's going to be okay. Tell me that she'll be okay."

"Sshhh, she didn't do anything wrong other than run. Maybe my father will show her mercy," Fitz said, not even believing his own words.

"Maybe. Or maybe she'll get away and come find us," Olivia sniffled.

They fell silent, too heartbroken to talk any longer and too aware of the truth to continue to tell themselves lies. Greta was gone and they were never going to see her again. And for that, all three of them wept.

* * *

**AN: Ooooooooohhhh nooooooooooo, not Greta. They got her. What happens next? What do you think James will do to her? What about Big Gerry, will he make it? And Huck makes an appearance. How nice is Margaret? Anyways, they are on a train and on their way to Pennsylvania, which thanks to the Quakers (not only is their oatmeal delicious) is a free state. Leave me a review telling me what you thought and your predictions for the next chapter. **

**Fun Fact: The place they were in when they found the boat is present day Colonial Beach but was then known as Monrovia. It just so happens that President James Monroe was born there, hence the namesake, and President Washington was born not too far away. **

**Fun Fact 2: Joseph Bruin is a real person and when I was looking for places along the underground railroad, they listed him. However, I thought that was odd since he ran a slave jail, but apparently he helped one family escape at the insistence of his daughter. Either way, I don't think that he was the type to help runaways so I decided to make him on Jake's team. Also, the book they were referring to was The Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe, author of Uncle Tom's Cabin, a novel credited to jump starting the process to the Civil War. Joseph Bruin was mentioned over twenty times in the book and was persecuted at the start of the war. **

**P.S: The title of this chapter means So Close. **


	10. karibu na hapo

**Disclaimer: I don't own Scandal**

**AN: Hello and Happy New Year's. I hope that this year is a prosperous and happy one for you all. Anyways, I hope that you enjoy this next chapter.**

* * *

"Wake up!" A harsh male voice yelled at Greta.

Followed by the voice was ice cold water being thrown onto her, soaking straight through her dress and chilling her to the bone. Shivering and shaking, Greta sat up and tried to adjust her eyes to her surroundings. Looking around, she could see that she was in a cell of some sort. Her hands and feet were shackled and there was no way that she'd be able to move let alone walk. Sitting up as best she could, she braced her back against the cold brick wall and looked past the bars that separated her and her captor.

When she made eye contact, the man slipped a key into the lock and slid the bars open and proceeded to walk in to the tiny cell. He crouched down to Greta's eye level and just stared at her for a while as if he was trying to make a decision. Even now, staring into the face of the devil, Greta did not regret her decision. A mother protected her child even at the cost of their own life and that was what she had done. Had she not, Olivia would be in this cell and that wasn't acceptable. So she welcomed her fate, accepted it as soon as she purposely stepped on that branch. If that meant her baby girl could get to freedom, then she'd do it all over again.

"Where are they going?" the man sneered at her, his alcohol and tobacco laced breath making her noise scrunch in disgust.

"North." The answer was ambiguous and obvious enough that she wouldn't be in too much trouble for answering that way.

"What are the names of the people you are traveling with?" This was a question that she would not answer.

"You see, I done up and forgot," Greta answered, looking at him dead on, her gaze not wavering. In a blink of an eye, a heavy hand slapped the smirk right off of Greta's face, the force hard enough to turn her head. She spat out the blood and returned her eyes back to the man in front of her.

"Oh, really? I got something for women who think they forgot," the man said, standing up and unbuckling his belt.

Unable to help herself, Greta laughed. She quickly hushed her noise and prayed he hadn't heard her. Although nothing was funny about this situation, the idea of being raped no longer scared her. She was that numb to it. Had this man known what she had been through, what had been happening to her since she was sixteen years old at the hands of her masters and overseers, he wouldn't threaten her this way. She had become a pro and tuning out, playing dead and going someplace else until long after it was over. The only times that being raped hurt her to the core was the first time it happened, the time Eli found out, and when Olivia saw Big Gerry mounted behind her. Her abuse was the main reason Eli wanted to run and she blamed herself for his death everyday afterwards. When she came back to their cabin, he had held her while she cried, sobbing that she didn't like it, that she loved him and that Olivia was his. Sometimes the slave men weren't strong enough to deal with what master was doing to the women but Eli had been and he began formulating a plan to make sure that it never happened again.

"What the hell is so funny?" He asked, lowering his pants.

"Nothing," Greta said, biting her tongue. Had she mocked him for his form of torture, he'd think of something more painful, something she hadn't become immune to.

"That's what I thought. Now I'm giving you one last chance, what are the names of the people you were traveling with?" He practically yelled at her.

Before Greta could tell him to go fuck himself, loud steps echoed off the walls of the hallway lined with cells. The man in front of her quickly re-buckled his pants, tucking in his shirt and turning away from Greta to face whoever was coming. Another man quickly appeared, he seemed almost out of breath like he was running to get here. He wasn't too tall and he had a beard that looked more like a few days of going without shaving rather than some of the bushy ones that Greta had seen. He had an olive skin tone that spoke of maybe a Spanish heritage but he was light enough to pass as white. Maybe they thought he was of Italian lineage. Whatever it was, Greta could see there was something off about him.

"What Huck?" Greta's captor asked, annoyance clear in his tone.

"Sorry to interrupt Jake, but some of the men have made progress on the others and I thought that you would be interested," the man named Huck said.

Greta's heart dropped. If they caught Olivia, she didn't know what she would do, what she could do. She had hoped that her sacrifice was enough to get Olivia to a free state and out of the direct line of fire. However, Greta wasn't naïve enough to think that just because they got to a free state that everything would be okay. She knew that even if they had free papers that they could still be returned back to Big Gerry under criminal charges. Fitz had killed three men and severely injured his father, and while Olivia played a very minimal role in it, just because she was black and was there she would be prosecuted. And the fact that she was in love with a white man warranted death in the south. They wouldn't be truly safe until they got to Canada.

"Really? What kind of progress?" Jake softened his tone and Greta strained her ears to listen.

"It seems as though they caught a train heading to Kentucky thinking it went to Pennsylvania. I've already sent men to try and catch them at the next stop and have alerted the police in Kentucky via telegram," Huck informed him.

"Good work. I'm going to go and see where we are with that and you stay here and watch the prisoner," Jake said, handing Huck a set of keys and patting him on the shoulder as he left him and Greta alone.

Greta was having a tough time holding it together. She thought for sure that her daughter would be making it to freedom and she was heading away from it. Tears fell down her cheeks despite her best efforts to keep them at bay. And before she knew it, deep sobs were wracking her body as she struggled to take in air. Her head throbbed and her nose ran as she cried from the pits of her soul for her baby. Her vision was blurred but she could barely make out the figure of Huck walking towards her.

"I lied," was all he said in a solemn, definite tone. Greta didn't have the wherewithal to try and distinguish what he was saying. She was too caught up in her all-consuming grief. "I lied," he repeated.

"What?" Greta croaked, her throat raw from how hard she was crying.

"They're not heading to Kentucky. I lied. They're on a train going to straight Pennsylvania, no stops. They should already be there and will be able to either get on another train headed for New York or stay in Pennsylvania for a few days. But they are not going to Kentucky," he told her.

And Greta cried even harder.

When she gave birth to Olivia on the floor of the small cabin, her mother delivering her while Eli held her hand, Greta hoped for a million things she didn't think would be possible. As she cradled the tiny life that she had created and stared into her big brown eyes, she made promises to her that she never thought would come true. She had whispered to Olivia about a life that she wouldn't have, feeling like a liar as she spun the wonders of a world they didn't live in. But now, a little more than 18 years later, she was able to keep her promises, to give her daughter a chance to explore the world without the weight of shackles holding her back. Her baby was free.

* * *

"I'm sorry Mrs. Grant, we did all we could do but we couldn't save Gerry," Dr. Rosen said.

Late last night, Gerry had suffered a major heart attack and they weren't able to revive him. Ginny had been given hope that he was going to survive. He had woken up, had spoken a little, and had even drank some water. She had praised Jesus that her husband was spared and had went home for the first time in days to sleep in her own bed. When she had gotten up that morning, she was expecting to head to the hospital and see her husband, to speak with him and to find out when he was coming home. But that was not the case.

As soon as she walked into the wing of the hospital that housed Gerry, Dr. Rosen had intercepted her. His eyes told her all she needed to know. Fitzgerald Thomas Grant II was dead. She didn't even get the chance to really say goodbye. She had asked Dr. Rosen if Gerry had suffered and he told her no but she could tell he was lying. Gerry was probably awake when it happened, feeling not only the pain of his heart betraying him, but also the deep ache of his broken limbs and constant pounding head. Yeah, he had suffered.

"We have his body down in our morgue. We would've kept him in his bed until you got here but we had other patients," Dr. Rosen explained, "I can have one of our aides take you to him."

Ginny nodded numbly, not sure if she was strong enough to speak let alone see her husband's dead body. But her feet carried her forward as she followed the aid down a long hallway. At the end, the aide opened a door and stood aside to let Ginny in. In the middle of the room, on a table, was her husband. He was naked except for a white sheet that covered up to his waist. For a second, she thought that Dr. Rosen had made mistake, that her husband was merely sleeping. But as she rushed over to shake him awake, she realized that he was indeed gone as her hand touched his cold, stiff, lifeless body.

He didn't look like her Gerry. His was so pale, his lips were blue, and he was still bruised and battered. For a second, she wondered if this was what God did in death. Bring the inside out when people died, matched the personality with looks because for the first time, she was finally seeing Gerry for what he was. She knew that he wasn't a good person, hell, she herself wasn't a good person. But if this is what death looked like on someone that she had once loved, she wondered if it was too late to save herself.

* * *

On the train in the cargo section, they had found huge wooden crates that had holes for air. Luckily the cargo had already been dropped off in Virginia and they were on the return. Climbing in, Fitz and Olivia took one crate and Harrison took another. Fitz shut them in and while it was cramped with both of them in there, Olivia wouldn't have it any other way. She snuggled into Fitz's side and tried to shut off her brain. She didn't want to think about the journey they still had ahead of them or the fact that her mother wasn't going to be taking it with her. She didn't want to think about the men coming after her or the bad people in the world. She just wanted to be. For one minute, she just wanted to be.

"Livi?" Fitz spoke quietly.

"Hmmm?"

"How are you feeling?" She could tell that he had waited as long as he could before asking her that, trying to give her time to digest what had happened and wrap her head around what was going to happen.

"I feel like someone tore my soul in two," Olivia answered honestly.

Fitz was quiet after that, not knowing how to respond, only knowing that he wanted to take her pain away. He listened as she started to cry again, felt as the tears soaked his shirt and cursed himself for having caused it. He didn't know what else to do so he guided her head from his shoulder and tilted her chin up to him. In the complete darkness he could feel her questioning gaze on him, could almost imagine her expression. Then a blur of a shadow moved and her mouth was on his, kissing him hungrily as she maneuvered herself onto his lap.

And he kissed her back.

His hands dug into her hips and she rocked against him, molding her mouth to his and sweeping her tongue in when he groaned. And there was no pressure to go any further than this, both content to feel this most basic of connections. She kissed him long and hard until her pain temporarily vanished and the world went away. She needed him and he obliged, winding his arms around her and pulling her closer. After some long minutes, she pulled away, burying her face in his neck and just breathing him in, feeling so safe and secure that she didn't have the need to pin prick the tiny bubble they existed in with her words. And just like that, sitting in his lap, cocooned in his embrace, she fell asleep.

Off and on throughout the ride, Olivia would wake up. She ate the food that Margaret was kind enough to pack for them and she checked on Harrison a couple of times by tapping a few times and waiting for a response. After seeing that he was okay, she would go back to waiting for the train to come to a stop. It wasn't as long of a ride as she thought it was going to be and faster than she was expecting, the wheels screeched to a stop and the whistle blew signaling that they had arrived in Pennsylvania.

She, Fitz, and Harrison quickly got out of the crates and off the train, lucky that the sun hadn't completely risen. They blended as best they could with the other people getting off the train, walking with the crowd and trying their hardest not to look suspicious. Everything was so different here. Although it was early in the morning, there were still quite a few people out. So accustomed to not being able to be seen in public next to a white person, Harrison and Olivia walked a few paces behind Fitz. Olivia looked around at all of the people, black, white, Hispanic, and Asian. She had never seen so many types of people in all of her life. But then she saw a beautiful dark skinned woman in one of the fanciest dresses she had ever seen. There was a baby on her hip and she was holding the hand of a little girl in an equally beautiful dress that was many shades lighter than her mother. Transfixed, Olivia followed them with her eyes and she watched as the woman craned her head around the crowd of people and then a smile came across her face as she saw who she was looking for. A tall, handsome white man came and embraced the black woman, bending to kiss her and his children before picking up his daughter, taking his wife's hand, and walking away. Olivia literally stopped and stared after them, so convinced that this wasn't real, so convinced that the police or someone was going to come and arrest them but nothing happened. No one even batted an eye. She looked around to make sure that others had seen this and while some whites looked to be a tad perplexed, they just went about their business.

"Livi? Are you okay?" Fitz asked, concern etching his tone.

She covered her mouth with her hand and only then did she realize she was shaking. Tears shown in her eyes and she did a full three hundred and sixty degree turn. There were coloreds and whites everywhere, coexisting, cohabitating in a way that wasn't in a slave and master system. They just were. This is what she worked so hard, what they ran for, what she lost her mother for. It was the most breathtakingly beautiful thing that she ever seen.

She stretched her hand out, waiting to be as out there was the other couple, then folded it back into her side. She was scared. Taking a deep breath, she threw caution to the wind. Boldly, she grabbed Fitz's hand, smiling up at him and taking liberties that she wasn't previously granted. This man was hers and here she was free to flaunt it. She walked proudly by his side, no longer paces behind, no longer trying to shield her admiring gaze. She hoped that she displayed all the love she felt, not caring who saw. If this was freedom, it felt damn good.

"So what's next? Do we settle around here or do we keep moving?" Harrison asked, he too looking around.

"We have to keep going. You guys don't have free papers and you can be stopped at any time and be asked to produce them," Fitz said, trying to think of a way to get Olivia her papers.

"Alright. Can we stay here for the day though?" Harrison questioned, drunk off of his first sip of freedom.

"Okay, but we just have to make sure that we blend as best as possible," Fitz answered, tucking in his shirt and straightening his stance so that he didn't look like he didn't belong here.

As they walked around, they looked for clues as to where they were, not wanting to ask people and put a target on their backs. As they were walking, they heard a little boy yelling, trying to sell his papers, and Fitz walked past him. Reading the name of the paper it read: The Philadelphia Inquirer. They were in a city where the greats had once been, in a city that was founded on liberty and justice and brotherly love. As they continued walking, Olivia's hand firmly grasped in Fitz's, they came alive. They said hi to people they passed in the streets and walked around with smiles instead of lost expressions. It was a lot to take in but they were sponges in a pot of water, thirstily soaking in all they could contain.

"Fitz?" Olivia asked after having walked around for nearly twenty minutes

"Yes?"

"What are we going to do about food and money?"

That was a very good question. He hadn't thought of that. He figured once they got where they were going that he'd find work there and would provide a life for Olivia. He had no clue what he was going to do in the meantime but he had to think of something fast. Looking around, he saw a small, two story store and figured he'd try his luck there. Tugging Olivia along, Harrison following close behind, they made their way inside the shop. A ding of a bell alerted the shop owners that someone had entered. There was a red headed woman sweeping and a man standing behind the counter at the register. Nervously, he went up to the counter and spoke.

"Hello, my name is Fitzgerald and I was wondering if we could work here for the day in exchange for either food or money," Fitz said, putting his hand out to shake.

The other man looked at them curiously for a minute before accepting Fitz's hand and shaking it. "Name's Stephen and that's my wife Abby. We could actually use your help restocking the shelves and doing some cleaning," Stephen said, an accent that Fitz couldn't quite place heavy on his tongue.

"We'll do anything," Fitz quickly agreed.

"We're a little low on money, but we can offer you a hot meal and a couple of rooms above the store to stay in tonight if you all are going to be in town for a while," Stephen offered.

"We would be very grateful," Fitz smiled.

"Great. Are you two married?" Stephen asked from seemingly out of nowhere.

"What?" Fitz questioned, his eyebrow quirking up.

"Married. I can't have the two you staying in a room together unless you're married. Goes against the bible."

"Yes, we're married," Olivia quickly lied. "I'm Olivia and this is my brother Harrison."

He looked at Olivia for a moment, then back at Fitz, then back at Olivia before deciding that he believed her. "Alright. Well, you men come with me and Olivia you go and ask Abby if she needs help with anything."

With the men gone, Olivia went to the red headed woman, nervous to approach her. While she didn't seem mean per se, there was something about her aura that let Olivia know that she was very feisty and could hold her own amongst the best of them. Meekly walking up to her, Olivia cleared her throat in hopes of getting her attention. Abby looked up from her sweeping and placed a hand on her hip.

"Hi, I'm Olivia. Your husband said that you might need help with a few things," Olivia said politely.

"Uh, well I'm almost done with the chores that need to be done here, but if you follow me to me house, I can use your help there and we can prepare a meal for the men," Abby offered.

Shaking her head in agreement, when Abby finished up her sweeping, Olivia followed her out of the shop. The two women walked in silence, neither knowing quite what to say. It was a ten minute walk from the shop to Abby's home, a quaint place very similar to the others on the row. Leading her in, Abby led Olivia to her kitchen.

"Do you know how to clean and cook chicken properly?" Abby asked.

"Yes." If only she knew.

With that, Abby handed Olivia the chicken she had purchased from the market that morning and showed Olivia where the knives were. The two women worked in tandem, Olivia cutting the chicken while Abby washed and peeled potatoes. Abby started humming as she worked, flitting around the space easily and barely seeming to acknowledge Olivia's presence. That's probably while Olivia startled a little bit when Abby spoke.

"Where did you guys come from? It's obvious that you're not from around here," Abby said causing Olivia to stiffen. "Don't worry, you may speak freely. Stephen and I are Quakers and abolitionists. We've been very active in the anti-slavery movement."

Hesitantly, Olivia answered. "We're from Richmond, Virginia."

"How did you and…" Abby paused at waited for Olivia to fill in the name.

"Fitzgerald."

"How did you and Fitzgerald meet if you don't mind me asking."

"Fitz was…is…was," Olivia struggled over which tense to use, "my slave master's son."

Abby's eyebrows shot up and she made a 'humph' sound, showing that she was clearly surprised. She had figured that he was perhaps a junior overseer, a local farm boy, or someone that Olivia had meet on her escape to freedom. Anything but the slave master's son. "And how did you two come to be?"

Olivia smiled fondly and she knew that she glowed with love. "I worked in the house and one night, Fitz came into my room with food. He wasn't expecting anything in return, not even my friendship. And he kept coming and eventually we feel in love." Olivia kept back the fact that he taught her how to read and write, not sure how liberal Abby really was.

"And marriage?" Abby followed up. Olivia didn't know what to say and she hated to lie to them but she would be damned if she spent the night alone or even worse, with Harrison. "That was the first thing we did when we got to Pennsylvania."

"Seems like you two are similar to my Stephen and I," Abby smiled. "Although I cannot imagine what you and Fitzgerald went through. As you could probably tell, Stephen is not from America. My family didn't really like that he was a foreigner and forbade me to see him but I didn't care. I threw caution to the wind and ran away with him. We had to start completely over here but I wouldn't trade a second of it."

"Neither would I. On the way here," Olivia pause to choke back the sob, "we lost my mother. But she sacrificed for us and I'm not going to look back."

"I can sense that you're a person with a lot of trust issues and doesn't like to be touched by people you don't know, so I'm warning you now, I going to hug you because I really think that you need it," Abby said, slowly inching towards Olivia.

Olivia just stood there, not sure what to do. The only white person that hugged her besides Fitz was Margaret and those had been special circumstances. But Olivia supposed that these circumstances were just as special. Abby come at her, arms wide open and when she reached Olivia, she wrapped her arms around her and just hugged her. Olivia didn't move for a second, but then the floodgates opened and she cried. She cried for her mother, she cried for herself, then she cried happy tears for people like Margaret and Abby. She cried happy tears that she was in a place that she was accepted just because she was another human being and not shunned because her skin happened to glow with a hue that God had hand painted himself.

Stepping back, Abby wiped Olivia's tears with her thumbs and whispered that it was going to be okay. "I know a woman that can help you. She has a few connections and her husband works with the courts…"

"Please, no police or anything like that," Olivia said, scared to death that there were going to get caught.

"What I mean is that she can get you free papers so that when you do settle, you don't have to constantly look over your shoulder," Abby said, putting a comforting hand on Olivia's shoulder. "I won't tell my husband that you and Fitzgerald aren't actually married and will let you stay together."

"How did you…?"

"You can't get married without free papers and it's obvious to me that you two have recently run away," Abby swiftly answered. "But that doesn't mean that others have noticed."

The rest of the day went by pleasantly, the women finding that they got along really well for strangers. They cooked and did odds and ends around the house, the whole time Abby doing as much work as Olivia and not leaving her to do it all. Olivia was going to be truly sad to leave Abby, but she thought that they were too close to Virginia to settle in Pennsylvania and knew that they would be going soon. They finished cooking the food and Abby told Olivia to take it to the store while she went to see her friend, Quinn, about forging the free papers.

"I'm going to need you and your brother's full names," Abby said, standing in the doorway about to leave.

"Harrison Elias Wright," Olivia said, using her father's name as a way to give her dad a piece of freedom, even if it was only on paper, and the name Wright just seeming…right. "And I'm Olivia Caroline…Pope."

Though when she married Fitz she would have to take his last name, she didn't want to have Gerry's last name as her maiden name and while it was the same name, there was a difference. One was given to her, a stamp saying that she was his property, and the other was going to be by choice. So she chose Pope; person of plighted equality. And she chose Caroline, the middle name of her mother.

"I like it," Abby smiled then went to get the documents.

Olivia carried the pot of chicken and potato stew for her, Fitz, and Harrison to the store, bowls and spoons balanced on top of the lid. It was a surreal experience to be walking by herself without a tag saying that she belonged to someone. No one asked her where she was going or even paid attention to her and she liked it that way. When she reached her destination, she walked in and saw all three men leaning against the counter laughing and joking. Fitz paused mid-sentence having sensed Olivia's presence and immediately went to her. He took the pot from her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Fitzgerald, you can carry that upstairs and I'll show you all where you'll be staying tonight," Stephen said.

They went to the back of the store where a door hid a staircase. Climbing the dark and narrow steps, Olivia was actually pleasantly surprised when she reached the landing and went into the room that she and Fitz would be sharing tonight. While it was small, it was well lit with lanterns and there was a comfortable bed and a small round table set up in the corner with two chairs. Fitz set the pot down on the table then went to shake Stephen's hand.

"I really appreciate you doing this for us," Fitz said sincerely.

"And I appreciate a man that is willing to do whatever it takes for the woman he loves. I'm going to head home and kiss my wife. There's something about seeing you two together that makes me want to love my woman all the more," Stephen laughed.

"Abby is visiting with her friend Quinn," Olivia told Stephen so he wouldn't be disappointed when he got home to an empty house.

Besides a quirk of the eyebrow and a nod of the head, Stephen didn't respond. He probably knew why Abby was seeing Quinn and didn't want to delve too deeply into their business. On his way out, he shook Fitz's hand again, tipped his head to Olivia, and patted Harrison on the back before wishing them all luck.

"Should I know something about this Quinn woman?" Fitz asked.

Olivia could barely contain her excitement. "She's going to get me and Harrison our free papers. You are looking at Olivia Caroline Pope and Harrison Elias Wright," she beamed.

Fitz was a little slow to react and for a second Olivia thought that she had done something wrong by not discussing this with him first, but then the biggest and brightest smile came across his face. Despite his ribs and arm, he went to her and picked her up, squeezing her in a bear of a hug. She pulled her face from his neck and kissed him hard.

"I'm a free man. I'm a free man," Harrison kept repeating over and over, tears running down his cheeks and dropping down to knees as the full weight of the situation hit him. "I'm a free man."

When Fitz finally set her down and Harrison finally stood up, Olivia went to the table and spooned stew into bowls and handed them out. Harrison sat on the edge of the bed while Olivia and Fitz took the chairs. As they ate, everyone shared tidbits from their day. As they were finishing up their meal, they heard footsteps and were immediately on guard until they saw Abby come through the doorway.

"It's just me," Abby chuckled, sensing the tension in the air. "I have your papers and I must say, these are the best ones Quinn has ever done."

Abby handed them their prospective documents and Olivia and Harrison treated them as if they were gold. They looked at the documents, skimming their fingers over it so lightly, so gently, as though they thought it would break.

"Wow… it's a new world," Olivia awed, not believing that she actually had a shot at a real life. "Thank you so much, Abby."

"It's my pleasure, truly. I have a feeling that you guys are going to be gone in the morning, so just in case we don't see each again, I want to say goodbye now and wish you all luck in your travels. Also if you are ever in the area, you know where to find us," Abby said, gathering her empty pot and bowls.

On her way out the door, all three of them gave her a hug and profusely thanked her for all that she did for them. She accepted their thanks and then left them alone, telling them she was going to lock up the store behind her and that no one else should be coming by.

"So I've been thinking," Harrison began, "that with my papers, I'll head to New York and settle there. I know that you didn't want me with you and I think now is my time to head out on my own."

While Fitz and Olivia were taken aback and definitely a little saddened by the news, they knew this was best. It was time for them to start their lives together and Harrison didn't exactly fit into their happily ever after. Heading to the door, Harrison paused for a second before leaving. "You're not so bad, Fitzgerald. For a white person. And you, Olivia, at first I judged you for falling in love with him, but I understand why. I hope you two are happy."

And with that, they were alone.

"I've never slept in a real bed before," Olivia said, gingerly lying down on the mattress.

"When we get to where we're going, I promise that you'll have the best bed in the world," Fitz said, sitting down beside her.

"And you've never broken your promise to me." Olivia pulled her dress off over her head, leaving her in just a slip.

Fitz took off his shoes and then tugged off his pants. Soon he was in just his boxers. He took off his homemade sling and carefully set it on the ground, slightly wincing as he stretched his arm. He was definitely feeling way better, but his ribs still caused him to ache. Looking over, he was caught off guard by how stunning Olivia was. He had stared at her for days on in, but he was no less taken aback by her beauty anytime he cast his eyes her way. She felt his eyes on her and looked up at him. An overwhelming sense of desire overtook her. She needed him.

"Fitz…"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Knowing that his ribs prevented him from being on top, Fitz scooted back further on the bed. Leaning back against the headboard, Fitz watched as Olivia crawled over to him and threw her leg over his and straddled him. On her knees, she tugged her slip off and threw it to the ground, not caring where it landed. Slowly and looking at him the entire time, she guided her mouth to his. Fitz's hands went to her waist before circling her and bringing her closer. Olivia twined her fingers in his hair and kissed him harder. She could feel him harden underneath her and it made her grow even warmer. Her finger tips tingled and she throbbed between her legs for him.

Trailing a hand down his chest, she palmed him through his boxers, needing to feel how much he needed her. And he didn't shy away. He lifted his hips into her hand and trailed his lips to her neck. The tips of her nipples brushed against his chest causing her to whimper and squirm. She lifted up a bit and used both hands to pull his boxers down as far as she could get them. He did the rest of the work, using his foot to kick them completely off.

For a while she thought that she'd never have this pleasure again. That she wouldn't feel him inside of her, his hands on her body, seeing his lips part to groan as they made love. Taking his length in her hand, she ran it all the way, down causing him to shudder, before sinking down onto him. She threw her head back and let out a long moan as she settled all the way down to the base. Guiding her movements with steady hands at her hips, she and Fitz moved in tandem, rising and falling, rising and falling.

She circled her arms around his neck, skimming her lips across his ear before nipping the lobe between her teeth. Nothing ever felt this good. She pulsed around, clenching her walls in attempts to never let him leave. Acting on instinct, she rode him until she was at the brink. His hand slipped down to her slit, rubbing her nub and making her pant his name. She was so close and only needed a little bit more to fall over the edge. And that's when he kissed her, plunging in his tongue and taking her breath away. She came, moaning into his mouth how much she loved him. Fitz was only a split second behind, shaking underneath her as he found his completion.

* * *

"That was very nice service Ginny," Anne said as they headed away from Big Gerry's lowering casket.

They decided to bury him in the family plot on their land. The first Fitzgerald Thomas Grant was buried there as well Big Gerry's mothers and siblings. There were several generations of Grants buried there and one day Ginny would be laid to rest next to her husband, the last Grant to do so. She had cried during the ceremony and tossed flowers into the casket before they closed it. She knew that God had forgiven Gerry for any wrongdoings and that he was in heaven. At least that's what she told herself. The Dutchmores were in attendance along with some other friends. It really was a lovely ceremony.

"It really was. That Negro girl sang beautifully. If anything, they sure do have pretty voices," Ginny said as they walked.

"Ginny, I want to let you know that while we haven't caught the others yet, I will. And we have received word that they have Greta," James told her.

"Let them be," Ginny spoke quietly.

"Excuse me?" James questioned, not sure he heard her right.

"I said let them be. Bring Greta back here, but let Fitzgerald and Olivia be," Ginny spoke up.

"And why would you do that? He killed your husband and ran off with a nigger." James was sure that it was the grief talking.

"The bible says that I have to forgive. While I may not like what my son has done, he is still my son. Just let him be. As for our land, we will still conduct a deal, but it will be on my terms," Ginny said, hoping to make herself clear.

"And why not just release Greta too," James said in an incredulous tone, throwing his hands up in the air.

Although Ginny knew it was a rhetorical question, she answered anyways. "I have my reasons."

* * *

**AN: So Big Gerry has died. So sad. Not really. Greta is still alive for now and got some good news from Huck, but Anne wants her with back. Wonder why? We met Abby and Stephen, great people who are abolitionists and Quakers which a lot of people were in Pennsylvania. We also got a glimpse of Quinn but because I feel she is unnecessary (on the show. I really don't like her), we didn't get much. Harrison is going to be venturing out on his own. It's about time. And Olivia and Fitz got some much needed alone time. Leave a review and tell me what you thought. **

**Fun Fact: Pennsylvania's interracial marriage law was passed in 1725 and absolved in 1780, making it absolutely legal for people of different races to marry way before the Civil War and the Civil Rights Movement. There were several other states that had laws passed and absolved before the 1900s and even some that never passed laws against the act at all. Vermont happens to be one of those states that never passed a law. Hint, hint. **

**P.S: I'm sad to say this, but there is only going to be one more chapter and an epilogue. I could probably write for days, but quite frankly, I don't have the time. I hope to have this story done before school starts back up and that's why I'm ending it early. But I promise it will feel complete. Also, to the person that promises me baked goods for updates, I have yet to receive a package, lol. Just saying. Oh, and the title of the chapter means Almost There.**


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